


28 Days of "I Love You"

by silverivy13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Civil War, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Internet Friends, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - YouTube, American Civil War, Bartender Keith (Voltron), Characters to be added, Coffee Shop, Crushes, Cryptid Hunting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Galaxy Garrison, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galtean, Ghost Keith (Voltron), Ghosts, Gryffindor Lance (Voltron), Inspired by The Great Gatsby, Internet Friends, Klance AU Month 2019, M/M, Mermaids, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Princes, Role Reversal, Roommates, Slytherin Keith (Voltron), Soldier Lance (Voltron), Surfer Lance (Voltron), That's it, Video & Computer Games, YouTube, first encounter, just pure fluff, mermaid keith, merman, secret crushes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2019-10-26 16:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverivy13/pseuds/silverivy13
Summary: My klance AU month collection!I will finish this eventually. Promise.Day 1: Lance spends every Sunday night waiting for that one really hot customer to show up.Day 2: Keith has never been good at confronting his problems. Especially when they revolve around a certain Altean prince.Day 3: Lance always thought he had that private beach to himself. Turns out he was wrong.Day 4: So maybe getting dared to sneak into Slytherin's common room wasn't one of Lance's finer moments.Day 5: It's a Friday night and you know what that means: movie night!Day 6: It's time to prove to Pidge once and for all that ghosts exist.Day 7: Keith turns to video games to escape his overbearing foster parents and meets a certain someone online.Day 8: It's just his luck that Keith gets lost on his first day at the garrison.Day 9: Movie of Choice: the Great GatsbyDay 10: Lance and Keith go hunting for mothman.Day 11: Working in a tavern in the 1860s, Keith can only get so much. Luckily, Lance is one of them.Day 12: Rethinking of the "we are a good team" scene.





	1. Day 1: Coffee Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has pretty much one reason why he keeps this barista job: the cute stranger who always stops by on Sundays.  
> And okay, maybe there are more reasons than that, but really, who can resist a guy that hot? Lance certainly can't.

Lance couldn’t help but glance at the door for probably the millionth time that day, his nervous pacings increasing in the face of not a single customer not that prime hours were over.

“Keep walking like that and you’re gonna dig holes in the floor,” came an entertained voice from behind him and Lance looked back to see Hunk staring at him with a mix of both pity and amusement on his face.

“Look, I can’t help it!” he complained, slamming his fist against the counter. “It’s already past eight and he’s not here yet! He’s never been this late!”

“Wow, some people have better things to do than go to a small-time coffee shop at eight at night when it’s pouring rain outside, what a shock,” Pidge replied with a bored tone as she pressed a button on the espresso machine, waiting for the deep brown elixir to come spilling out into the mug she’d placed underneath it.

“Shut up! He always comes up at seven on Sundays, yet he’s over an hour late! What if something happened!” Hands flying to his hair, Lance quickly spun around again in agitation. “Oh God, what if he got mugged? What if he’s sick? What if he’s dying?!”

“Jesus Christ,” Pidge muttered at the same time Hunk rested a hand on Lance’s back, rubbing soothing circles into it. “Like I said, it’s fucking pouring. It’s practically a monsoon outside. You’re a complete dumbass if you think someone would come to get coffee when it’s like that. Now if you need me, I’m gonna be on my “break,” if you get my drift. Don’t waste my time with your pathetic love troubles and grow a pair, yeah?”

“Wha- you- I-... I hope you die from over-caffeination!” Lance shouted at her retreating back with a sharp glare. The brunette’s only response was a wave over her shoulder before rounding the corner and disappearing into the backroom for the employees, half the espresso in the mug already gone.

“She’s just tired,” Hunk said supportively. “You know she doesn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, well, I meant every word,” Lanced answered begrudgingly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his aprons as he stared at the door, still hoping he’d walk in despite it being less than ten minutes until closing.

It had been a little over four months since the Cuban had first seen the most beautiful person he’d ever seen before, who had walked in through the door of the coffee shop late one Sunday night in June with a confused expression on his face. Just one glance was all Lance had needed to fall head over heels for the handsome man.

That glossy raven-black hair that managed to look so soft in spite of the sharp expression that almost always crossed the man’s features, which, let Lance tell you, were absolutely _flawless_. A true Adonis among men, if you will. Perfect cheekbones, pale skin that practically glowed without a single imperfection save for a scar running down the right side of his face, which only added a rugged mysteriousness to the guy that Lance was positively digging the hell out of. And then those eyes, those gray-blue eyes that looked violet under the fluorescent lights of the store which seemed to hold some kind of secret story that Lance was just dying to learn.

And then he spoke and his slightly husky voice that had a certain rasp to it made Lance know that there was no one else for him right then and there, and now he was determined to prove it to the guy. The only problem was he only came every Sunday and only late at night. No big deal really, Lance just had to change his shifts a little, and soon enough, Sundays were his new favorite days.

Except the guy hadn’t shown today and it was the first time in four months that had happened and now Lance felt like he was gonna explode with worry- and hormones, but really, that had already happened so many times by now, he wasn’t that concerned.

No, he was much more focused on the absence of a certain Keith Kogane, not just from his life, but from the one time he got to see him a week.

Hunk, seeming to sense that there wasn’t really any getting through to Lance, just sighed and gave a shrug of his shoulders before clapping his friend on the back. “Buck up dude. There’s always next week. I’m gonna go check on the bathrooms before we close.”

With that, he headed away from the counter, leaving Lance to his all-too-harried thoughts that were quickly spiralling out of control. “Calm down,” he muttered to himself, slapping his cheeks lightly as he tried to focus on something, _anything_ , else. “I’m sure he’s fine. Besides, who’d come in this rain? Pidge is right, I shouldn’t get my hopes up.”

He walked over to the door, taking a final glance out the long glass windows before sighing quietly and grabbing the “We’re Open!” sign hanging from the front door, switching it over to “Sorry, Closed For Now!” Once that was done, he grabbed the specials menu from its display by the front door and brought it back into the shop, erasing the chalkboard so it could be rewritten the next day. Setting it down behind the counter, he grabbed the key so he could lock the front door, heading back to the storefront to lock it.

He’d barely made it back to the counter when he heard what sounded like a fist pounding against the glass, jumping as he swung around, expecting some kind of creep or drunkard to be outside the store.

His heart felt like it was gonna jump out of his chest when he recognized who it was, practically tripping over his own feet a billion times as he sprinted to the door at lightning speed, key still in hand as he unlocked the door and threw it open with such eager ferocity that the person looked a little confused before hesitantly stepping inside.

“I-Is this okay?” Keith asked him nervously, running a hand through his wet hair (which made Lance swoon, how was one guy so goddamn hot, it had to be illegal or something). “Aren’t you guys closed?”

“Manager isn’t here, I decide when we’re closed,” Lance replied immediately, ushering the man inside without a second thought. He’d get in trouble with Allura later, but really, what did he care? The only thing on his mind right now was Keith.

“Right… well, um, thanks I guess?” The gratitude was more of a question than an affirmation, but Lance more than accepted it anyway. “I was running late today; didn’t think I’d make it.”

“From where?” Lance couldn’t help but ask as he went around the side of the counter to grab a clean towel, tossing it at Keith. As the man caught it, Lance couldn’t help but appreciate the way his tank top showed off those biceps and lean, rippling arm muscles that he didn’t get to enjoy as much now that it was getting colder.

“The gym,” Keith explained, running the towel through his hair. Lance secretly resolved to never wash that towel and take it home with him. No one needed to know. “I go every Sunday after work. I’m a motorcycle mechanic.”

“That’s so hot- I-I mean, it must be hot, working out during summer and everything.” That was too close, Lance thought to himself, flushing red as he spun around and acted like he was busy cleaning one of the coffee machines.

“It’s a routine,” Keith answered. “You don’t notice the heat as much once you’re used to it. Besides, I get to come here after working out, so it’s perfect. I can’t come any other time you’re- um, any other time the store is open.”

 _Did he just-? No, no way. I must’ve been hearing things,_ Lance thought as he snuck a glance behind him. However, Keith seemed to be slightly redder than normal. Blue eyes widening, Lance quickly switched his gaze back to the espresso machine.

“...You don’t have any other free time for coffee than Sunday nights?” he asked slowly, careful to keep his tone calm without too much eagerness.

“No, um, I-I… it just doesn’t work out, okay? I’ve come on Tuesday and Thursday but…” Keith’s voice trailed off, sounding evasive and Lance was about to say something when he quickly added “Can I just have my coffee?”

Something tightened in Lance’s chest at his words, giving a quick nod and otherwise no response. As he moved to the cold brew press, preparing the one drink that he’d spent far too many hours perfecting in his free time, he mulled over everything Keith had just given away- which honestly wasn’t all that much, but surely it was enough for Lance to go off of.

 _Tuesday and Thursday?_ he thought, working deliberately slowly on prepping the drink. _Those are two of the days I’m off, so I wouldn’t be here… And he definitely did say “you’re” earlier, there’s no way I’m hearing things._

As the machine dinged, signalling the drink was done, Lance grabbed the to-go cup with renewed determination and walked back over to Keith, holding out the drink. When the man reached out to take it, however, he quickly yanked it out of reach.

Keith’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you… going to give it to me?”

“Depends,” Lance replied, raising an eyebrow as a sly grin crossed his face. “How ‘bout you give me something first?”

“...My money?” Keith questioned, looking utterly lost as to where this was going.

Fortunately Lance was completely ready, hoping he was being as smooth as he thought it sounded in his mind.

“Nope, this one can be on the house. If,” he added, before Keith was able to say anything in response. “You give me your number?”

The man’s mouth fell open and, for a split second, Lance was scared he was going to reject him. Then Keith turned red, the expression on his face one of utter pleased embarrassment and his gaze flitted back up to meet Lance’s.

“That depends,” he said slowly, mimicking Lance’s earlier response with subdued amusement and pink cheeks. “Will you give me your name?”


	2. Day 2: Galtean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has never been good at confronting his problems. Especially when they revolve around a certain Altean prince. So, he does the logical thing in his mind: run. Unfortunately for him, said Altean prince doesn't like that conclusions very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my Galtean AU, Lance is Allura's cousin and a prince. Keith is a Galran prince and Shiro is his step-brother. That is all ^-^

Keith knew that Alteans were supposed to be, by nature, very charming beings. It was part of their diplomatic lineage, he supposed, the centuries of being universal peacemakers eventually having an effect on even the very genes of the race itself. The ethereal beauty they all seemed to hold was a thing of constant envy for him- especially since he didn’t find himself very attractive, even by Galran standards.

But one look at Allura’s cousin when she’d first introduced him to Keith at a ball when they were just children, and Keith had instantly realized just how much his mother had understated that charm when she told him about Alteans.

When Lance smiled, Keith swore he could hear choirs singing and glittering lights surrounding the Altean boy in all colors of the rainbow, and when he laughed, the world seemed to slow until all Keith could see was Lance- not that he minded that at all.

It took him a few years to fully realize that his feelings for Lance were something akin to love, although they still felt deeper than that, like ‘love’ wasn’t an adequate enough description for the extent to which Lance made Keith feel. It took even longer than that for him to finally come to terms with it.

As children of the highest nobility of two of the most powerful races in the galaxy, Lance and Keith were often together- sometimes by choice, others not. Their parents desperately wanted them to get along in order to further deepen the relations between the two different planets, and Keith didn’t have the heart to tell them that being next to Lance was because of motives that were entirely impure. So, he didn’t say anything his feelings and just hoped to high heaven that Lance never really caught on. Of course, while beautiful beyond words, Lance wasn’t all that bright, so Keith was never too worried.

Really, he should’ve been.

As they matured, Keith’s affection for Lance grew from one that was more full of adoration to one that was- well, to put it simply, full of lust. It didn’t help that Lance seemed to blossom into adulthood as he grew, perfect tanned skin glowing, body becoming toned, blue eyes shining ever brighter, and that blinding white hair that framed his face exquisitely.

And then there was the fact that Lance just seemed to radiate energetic optimism and happiness wherever he went. It was a carefree personality coupled with an extroverted view of life that let the sort-of-dumb prince get away with whatever and settle himself down comfortably in the hearts of whoever he so much as spoke to.

Keith was no exception, although Lance had managed to situate himself precariously in what little room Keith had in his heart for people and quickly encompasse all of it. Lance also seemed to want to be as touchy-feely as possible with Keith, taking no hesitation in glomping onto his friend whenever he saw him, clinging to his arm as they walked around the palaces, cuddling up next to him when they would be watching movies or just relaxing together.

It was honestly getting to be too much because Keith, bless his poor, little Galran hormones, couldn’t help but ‘react’ every time Lance so much as touched him in the slightest wrong way, and he was quickly running out of ways to hide it. “I gotta use the bathroom!” would only work so many more times.

So, Keith did the obvious thing in response to Lance’s overwhelming presence in his life: he ran.

Sure, call it stupid, call it cowardly, call it whatever you want, Keith called it a solution. Maybe it wasn’t a great one but he’d always ran from his problems before; there was no reason this should be any different.

Except it was, and that was his biggest miscalculation.

It was nearing the end of the third week that he had executed plan ‘Avoid Lance At All Cost’ and he was honestly at the end of his rope. Somehow being away from the Altean prince had also affected his nerves and his patience- both of which were growing thinner with each passing second.

Concerned for his step-brother’s wellbeing, Shiro had dragged him to the party he was currently trying his best to ignore right now. All around him were Galran nobles milling about, gossiping over the latest family drama and dancing the night away.

It should be fun, Keith supposed, otherwise Shiro wouldn’t have brought him there. It was, however, not fun at all- especially not with all the Galran women basically throwing themselves on him. Or rather, _had been_ throwing themselves at him. All it took was a glare and most had scurried away frantically, leaving only the stubbornest ones still there. Or maybe just the stupidest? Keith didn’t really care. After all, none of them were Lance.

There were a few other nobles there that weren’t Galran but Shiro had pretty much begged him to attend, which was really why Keith had agreed to go in the first place. Honestly he knew that Shiro was only there because he wanted to try to woo that Altean, Adam, that Shiro had met earlier that year. He wasn’t from the old noble families, but rather one of the nouveau riche that had quickly been gaining power. Of course, Shiro hadn’t seemed bothered by that at all. Keith didn’t really care but he knew his parents wouldn’t be all that happy about it.

Whatever, he thought to himself, deciding that was a problem for another day. Downing the last of his drink, he shouldered the girl clinging to his arm off of him, making a beeline for the balcony to get away from the noise.

The cool night air was refreshing against his fur and he sighed as the breeze brushed against his cheeks, offering a nice reprieve from the almost-uncomfortable warmth that accompanied a packed ballroom.

The peace was instantly broken a second later, his whole body tensing as he sensed a foreign presence behind him. His ears flicked backwards as he whirled around, smacking the outstretched hand away violently.

“I thought I said I wasn’t-!”

Keith instantly broke off as he saw who it was, eyes widening in shock as he realized it was Lance that he’d struck. The Altean prince took a step back, holding his wrist in bewilderment with a slightly hurt expression on his face.

“Lance-! I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you, I-I thought you were someone else!” He fumbled over his words as he tried to stammer out an apology without seeming too flustered. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other and Keith was feeling that.

“What, like those girls?” Lance questioned, eyebrows furrowing in irritation as he crossed his arms over his chest. Still, the small hint of a smile told Keith that Lance wasn’t really mad. “You seemed like you were living it up just a minute ago.”

“Is that what it looked like?” Keith answered sarcastically, turning back around to lean against the balcony. “Still, I’m sorry for smacking your hand. It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Nah.” Lance walked over to him with a wave of his hand, glancing at the Galra with an unreadable expression before saying “Not as much as you blatantly avoiding me for weeks on end hurts.”

Keith spun around to look at him in surprise. “I wasn’t-” He stopped himself when Lance gave him a look that was practically daring him to finish his sentence. “...Was it that obvious?” he finally settled on with a small sigh.

“Is the sky blue?”

“Well-”

“ _My_ sky, you dumbass, not the Galran one.” Lance paused. “Maybe that wasn’t the best analogy. Anyways, you get my point.”

“I do,” Keith agreed quietly. “Sorry.”

“You gonna tell me?” Keith just shook his head and Lance barely managed to hold back a frustrated scream to the heavens. Clenching his fist tighter, he finally ground out “Fine then. Why don’t you run back to those girls then.”

Keith glanced at Lance in confusion as he said “You know I’m not interested in them.”

“Yeah,” the Altean agreed, staring directly at Keith as he said “Because you’re too busy being interested in me.”

Keith was quiet for a few seconds before he spun around to stare at Lance as if he’d grown a third head, some sort of sputtering apology on his lips that he didn’t get a chance to say.

“Oh please,” the tanned teen continued with a roll of his eyes. “You really think I’m that stupid? Of course I’m gonna notice if you always purposefully walk a little behind me just so you can stare at my ass- not that I blame you, it’s a nice ass. One of my best _ass_ -ets.” He waggled his eyebrows with a sly grin at his own pun.

“That- that was terrible,” Keith finally replied with a short laugh.

“Not as terrible as how you’ve been acting lately.”

“...Look, Lance, I-” Keith broke off as Lance brought a tanned finger to his lips, staring at it in confusion before raising his gaze to the Altean’s piercing blue stare.

“I don’t want your excuses, Keith,” Lance said as he moved in closer, hands brushing up to cup the Galra’s cheeks and pull him in closer until their lips were almost touching. At this distance, Keith could see every one of Lance’s white eyelashes, framing his gorgeous cerulean eyes that mesmerized the Galra where he stood.

He almost didn’t realize when Lance closed the distance between them and brought their lips together in a gentle yet commanding kiss, the faint taste of vanilla and tender roughness taking over all of Keith’s senses as he found himself practically melting. When Lance pulled away, Keith could barely bite back a whine for more.

“I want _you_. Always have,” Lance continued, remaining close enough for Keith to feel his breath against his fur. “So stop running away and face me like a man. Okay?”

 _Was Lance always this… bold?_ Keith couldn’t help but wonder as he managed to eek out a quiet “okay,” in response.

The Altean grinned and Keith found himself falling in love all over again.

“Now then,” Lance said with a lick of his lips.”Shall we continue?”


	3. Day 3: Mermaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance always thought he had that private beach to himself. Turns out he was wrong. But would he have a problem sharing the beach with the cute raven-haired mystery that just turned up one day? Oh hell no.

One of the best parts about living on the coast was being next to the beach. Lance had known that ever since he was big enough to walk and, by the time he was old enough to go alone, he had already been surfing on the private beach he’d stumbled across when he was ten for years at that point.

Finding that beach had been a purposeful accident; after all, crawling through a gap in barbed wire fencing off private property could only be called an ‘accident’ to a certain extent. Still, it was the best discovery he had ever made: a serene, secluded, sandy beach with just the perfect waves for riding atop that no one had ever come to in over six years of surfing there.

Until he was sixteen and showed up only to find a black-haired boy, no older than he was, sitting there on the beach staring out at the sea.

At first, Lance had thought he was hallucinating. The guy was only in swim trunks and looked completely drenched despite sitting on the shore, crystalline drops of water beading off his skin like it was water-proof or something. Not a speck of color was on his skin even though the sun was burning down on them; in fact, he seemed almost monochromatic, with that white flesh and black hair. Until he looked behind him and his violet eyes struck Lance instantly.

“Uh, th-this is private property,” he stuttered. It was a lame excuse and he knew it but that was the only thing that was coming to mind at the moment.

After a second, the boy responded. “I know. This is my friend’s land.” Lance’s eyes widened in shock as he took a step backwards, immediately ready to bolt before the kid called the cops or something. Instead, the raven smirked in amusement and reclined backwards. “Relax. I’m not gonna tell on you.”

“Y-You aren’t? Why?” He couldn’t help but ask in confusion.

The kid gave a half-hearted shrug. “Secret,” he replied. “So instead of running away, let me watch you surf.” Lance must’ve looked confused because next thing he knew, the guy was pointing at his surfboard under arm. “That is what that’s for, right?”

“O-Oh yeah. Um… sure?” It came out more like a question but after a brief awkward period of silence, Lance stepped forward. It didn’t seem like the boy was going to move from where he sat, so Lance would take the initiative. Sticking out his hand, he grinned. “I’m Lance. I live down the street from here. What’s your name?”

The boy stared at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, returning the smile. “Keith. Nice to finally meet you. I’ve seen you surfing here a few times before,” he explained before Lance had the chance to question the ‘finally’ part.

“Yeah? You surf too?” He felt a little flattered that he’d been seen, although he didn’t really know where from. As far as he knew, there wasn’t a house or building anywhere near here. The only response he got to his question was a brief shake of Keith’s head, to which Lance just shrugged. “Mmkay. …I could teach you, y’know. If you wanted.”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I just want to watch.”

“Suit yourself.” Lance took one final look behind him before heading out towards the ocean, paddling out into the salty water atop his surfboard. When he reached a good distance and turned around, he saw that Keith had hugged his knees up to his chest and was resting his head atop them, gaze transfixed on Lance.

“Guess I better put on a good show,” Lance muttered to himself with a cocky grin as he climbed atop the board, determined to show off as much as possible.

After that, Keith seemed to be there every time Lance showed up to surf, even as the seasons gradually changed and the water got colder. Each time, he was only in swim trunks and he seemed like he’d never wear anything else. One day Lance showed up with an extra hoodie that he never wore that much and gave it to Keith. The boy acted like it was the nicest thing he’d ever received, much to Lance’s confusion. From then on, Keith would always wear that as well.

That was good, Lance thought. Now that it was autumn, pushing on winter, the weather would get progressively colder and the wind could be pretty strong at the beach. He had his wetsuits so he wasn’t worried, but he didn’t want Keith to get sick or anything. Then he might stop showing up.

The clothes were only one of the many strange things about Keith that Lance just didn’t understand. First, every time he came, Keith was always waiting for him and he never moved from where he sat either, not even when Lance pestered him immensely to come back with him for lunch or dinner or just to hang out more. Second, although he always seemed fascinated with Lance’s surfing, he never wanted to try it by himself. And then finally, he was always wet despite never showing interest in going in the water.

Still, Lance didn’t really want to ask. It felt like if he did, Keith might just disappear for good.

“Mi hijo, don’t you think the wind is a bit too strong today?” he heard his mom call after him from the house one day late in October. “A storm is coming, it’s dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine, mamá!” he called back, not saying the real reason he was going. He’d promised Keith they’d meet up today and he had a feeling that the raven would wait at that beach until he showed up.

True to form, when Lance arrived, Keith was already there waiting for him. “Maybe today isn’t the best day,” was what replaced his usual greeting.

That was the first time Lance had ever heard Keith tell him _not_ to go surfing. “Did you come today just to say that?” he asked, ignoring him as he finished up polishing his board.

“No, we promised to meet up.”

“Exactly,” Lance agreed. He turned to look at the water. The waves were choppier than usual, the gray sky above them full of deep gray clouds heavy with rain. “So I’m gonna surf. I won’t be long today, just a few rides, okay?”

Keith looked like he wanted to say something else, a concerned expression on his face, but he only nodded reluctantly as he settled onto the sand. Lance kinda wished he’d show a little more concern but everything he’d tried to get Keith to move had failed by now, so oh well.

The first couple waves were fine, although he had to use a little more control and balance than normal, one of them even threatening to overturn him at one point. Still, he’d managed to right himself at the last second and even pull off a sick cutback, flashing Keith a peace sign and a wide grin near the end.

He’d paddled out around the fifth or sixth time when he heard the telltale rumble of thunder overhead and felt a few drops starting to fall from the sky. ' _This’ll be my last one,'_ he decided, sitting up on his board to wait for the wave.

It was only when he saw Keith on the shore, a look of pure fear on his face as he actually stood up, gesturing wildly behind Lance, that the tanned teen noticed the giant wave that had crept up all too suddenly from the unsuspecting ocean. One second he saw gray sky above him and the next he was being hurled into the blue with all the force mother nature could muster.

He tried not to panic; this wasn’t the first time he’d been knocked off his surfboard, but then he realized that in his haste to get one last ride in, he’d forgotten to attach his line to his ankle and suddenly his board was gone and the only thing around him was navy blue water.

Just as he tried to surface, the current yanked him around him again, thrusting him further below and disorienting any attempts to navigate the raging ocean around him. Lance’s breath was basically gone and he could only watch in vain as the little bubbles escaping from his lips dissipated instantly in the violent current.

 _'I’m gonna die,'_ he realized, an icy cold chill setting in to his veins as his lungs starts to burn, mouth finally opening in a desperate plea for something, _anything_ besides the salty, unforgiving water surrounding him. Just as he consciousness started to slip away, he thought he saw a glimpse of red around him.

Then, suddenly, strong hands had wrapped around his waist and Lance was being pulled along far faster than anything human could possibly do, the disorienting confusion mixing with the fiery pain that was settling in to his chest as his muscles burned with exhaustion.

And then there was sand beneath him and his eyes were staring at the sky and he could breathe again, rasping coughs shaking his body as he desperately tried to wrack his lungs of the salty water that had almost formed his tomb.

“Wh- what the…” he rasped, managing to prop himself up on his side enough to look at who, or rather, _what_ had saved him.

It was Keith- at least, the top half was. Same pale skin, same dark hair, same violet eyes. And then he looked downward and Keith’s legs were replaced by a massive scarlet fish tail, scales glistening in the drizzling rain as smaller fins stretching out off the back of the tail sprawled out on the sand.

“You- you’re a- a-”

“Merman,” Keith finished for him, looking half like he wanted to disappear into a hole right about now and half like he wanted to murder a certain Cuban boy. “Yeah, I am, but forget about that, are you okay?! You could've died Lance, this is why I didn’t want you going in the water!”

“I- yeah, I’m fine, but you’re a- Holy shit! Is this why you’ve never gone in the water with me?!”

“Kinda hard to do that when half of you turns into a fish,” Keith muttered back as he seemed to finally start to calm down, running a hand through his hair as he propped himself up against the sand with a sigh.

“And when you said you’d seen me before-”

“I saw you from the ocean, yes. Is it that hard to believe?”

“Dude, you’re some kind of fantasy creature!” Lance protested, still trying to wrap his head around this. “What do you think?!”

“Not the same as you, but I guess I’ve always known mermaids exist so. If I were in your shoes, I’d probably be surprised too. And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you,” Keith added on, as if he suddenly had something weighing on his mind. “I did, it’s just… it’s supposed to be forbidden and I didn’t wanna be expelled or get anyone hurt or-”

“...You saved my life,” Lance interrupted, the initial shock finally starting to wear down. “You risked me finding out… just to help me?”

“...I wasn’t just gonna let you die,” Keith answered quietly. “What kind of person would that make me? When I saw you go under, I thought my heart was gonna stop.”

“So did I,” Lance agreed, laughing quietly at the glare Keith sent his way.

“Not funny. It almost did.”

“But it didn’t. You saved me,” Lance repeated, scooting closer to Keith, eyes now fixed on the boy’s tail. “Can I… um… can I touch it?”

Keith looked a bit surprised but nodded shyly after a few seconds. Hesitantly, Lance stretched out his hand, brushing his fingers against the shiny scales. They were smooth to the touch, clammy, and faintly slimy, but there was a warmth beneath them that could only belong to another living being. It was mesmerizing and Lance didn’t think he’d ever seen something as stunning as Keith right now.

“...This is both the coolest and the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me.” He said finally, pulling away to look at Keith. The merman’s cheeks were flushed like he was embarrassed, the faint red tint going surprisingly well with the red of his tail. “Sorry, did it tickle?”

“A-A bit,” Keith stammered back, looking up at Lance. “Um… you don’t hate me now, do you? Or think I’m gross?”

“Why would I? You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life!” Keith’s eyes widened as his flush turned a crimson red and then Lance realized what he’d just said and instantly tried to backtrack. “U-Uh, I mean, no- it’s just that it’s really cool and your tail is really pretty and- shit, I’m just digging my own grave here. Um. Oh screw it, it’s beautiful, okay?”

“...Thanks,” Keith answered finally.

The two broke off into silence that was filled with both awkward tension and frayed nerves as things finally started to settle down for the two of them. It was only broken when a sharp crack of thunder overhead caused them both to jump, the drizzle finally turning into a full blown storm.

“You should get home,” Keith said quietly. “Your family will be worried.”

“You too,” Lance agreed. “Wherever home is for you out… there.” He made a vague gesture to the ocean, to which Keith laughed softly. Lance glanced over at him and saw a strangely resigned expression on Keith’s face, as if he knew something Lance didn’t. Which, Lance supposed, he probably did. Not that that was a surprise after today.

As he stood to go, Lance paused briefly before turning back around, his face hardening into one of thought as he tried to figure out just what to say. “...I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said finally, hands on his hips as he waited anxiously for a response.

“Really?” Keith’s hopefully expression was instantly on him and Lance couldn’t have been happier. He’d said the right thing after all.

“Of course. I could use some help looking for my board, if it’s even possible to find it after tonight.” Keith’s eager grin was infectious as it spread across Lance’s face as well. “Bet you’d be able to search farther than me anyway.”

“...Tomorrow then,” Keith agreed happily, looking more like a kid than he ever had before.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

As he turned around and headed back up the beach, Lance couldn’t wait until the next day finally arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mermaid AU, mermaids can grow legs if they choose to when they go on land but it hurts a lot to move and they also can't walk very well unless they practice a bunch, hence why Keith doesn't move on land often. Shiro is the one who owns the private beach Lance sneaks onto and he's human- they have the same father, but Keith's mom is a mermaid and Shiro's is human.


	4. Day 4: Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So maybe getting dared to sneak into Slytherin's common room wasn't one of Lance's finer moments. But who was he to back down from a dare- especially when it meant he might attract the attention of that beauty he'd been eyeing since the start of the school year? He does indeed get attention- just from the wrong person. Make that people. Is there a spell that'll let him sink underground forever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about Harry Potter, okay? Never read the books, only seen the movies a handful of times. Sorry for any inaccuracies!

This was, all things considered, probably not one of Lance’s finest moments.

Sure, maybe taking the dare sounded great at the time, and yeah, maybe he was trying to impress that cute white-haired girl who was a year above him, but somehow he didn’t think this was really working out in his favor.

Especially when he now had what seemed like all of Slytherin staring at him.

_“What, too chicken?” The crowing voice had echoed from Rolo, one of the older Gryffindor students, just a few minutes ago. A chorus of chuckles erupted from the wide circle as Lance’s cheeks flushed pink._

_“That’s not it! I just- don’t have any way to sneak in, that’s all!”_

_“You can use my invisibility cloak!” came a lilting voice with a gentle British accent. Lance looked to his left to see what he doubtlessly knew was the most beautiful girl in all of Gryffindor House, possibly the whole school, grinning at him. “I’ve been wanting to test it out ever since father gave it to me!”_

_“You have an invisibility cloak?!”_

_“That’s so cool!”_

_“You’re so lucky, Allura!”_

_As the impressed voices of the other students rung out around the circle, Lance felt her stare boring holes into him. She obviously had no ill will, clearly too excited at the prospect of her cloak being used for some actual sneaking around, but Lance couldn’t help but be a little irritated. He’d heard stories of Slytherin House from his brothers and sisters and none of them were ever good._

_Still, he definitely wasn’t a coward- or rather, he wasn’t about to be labelled as one. Not when it seemed like he might finally be getting in with the older students. Not when he finally had the chance to impress the girl he liked. And besides, how bad could it be? Slytherin students were human too, right?_

Lance was starting to doubt that. All around him were people glaring at him with cold, calculating eyes and cruel snickers held back behind thinly-veiled smirks of malice. He knew that was more directed at the fact that the cloak he was using had been discovered when he embarrassingly manage to trip over a pile of books and expose the bottom half of his body, but he still couldn’t help but feel just the tiniest bit terrified.

He tried to shove the cloak behind his back a bit more as one of the students took a step towards him, eyes fixed on the invisible bundle. He was tall, much taller than Lance, with long white hair cascading down his back and dark skin. Honestly, he looked a bit like Allura at first glance, but his presence was far more intimidating, plum-colored eyes observing everything with a sort of cold distance.

“Can I help you?” he asked, the faint-but-certainly-there condescending tone not failing to reach Lance’s ears.

“No, nope, not at all!” Lance said quickly with a nervous chuckle, taking a small step backwards in spite of himself.

“Well clearly you’re here for _something_ ,” the student pressed, advancing on Lance as he tried to skirt around him to get a better look at the cloak. “A Gryffindor like yourself doesn’t normally visit Slytherin, after all.”

“That’s, um-”

“And besides,” the older boy continued, not bothering to let Lance attempt to stutter his way through some excuse. “Assuming my eyes don’t deceive me, I believe you have something that doesn’t belong to you.” Lance’s eyes widened in surprise. _‘So he does know Allura,’_ he thought to himself.

“Why don’t I hold onto that for you? Before someone less kind than I catches you.” With that, the older student swiftly thrust his arm out, reaching for the cloak.

“What?” Lance couldn’t help but question, quickly jumping back before the boy could grab the cloak out of his reach. “No, back off, dude.”

The glare he got was absolutely terrifying but no way was he about to back down- although, with the way the other students were watching this whole debacle, maybe backing down would be a better idea. The boy opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by an unfamiliar voice calling out a name- Lance’s name.

“Lance! Hey, you’re finally here!”

Frowning in confusion, Lance turned to see another student weaving his way through the crowd that had gathered around he and the intimidating white-haired teen. The guy looked a little frazzled but at least seemed to have a kinder expression on his fair-skinned face than pretty much everyone else in the room.

As he finally reached them, the stranger took hold of Lance’s elbow and pulled him back just the slightest bit as he turned his attention to the older student.

“Sorry, Lotor,” the boy said. “He’s meeting up with me to work on a project for one of our classes. I offered to let us use one of the private rooms but didn’t know he’d gotten here early.”

The older student, Lotor was his name, Lance now knew, stared carefully at Lance before switching his attention to the other boy. “...Is that so?” he mused, his tone implying like he wasn’t buying it one bit. “If that’s the case, then why does he have that cloak?”

“It’s because Allura lent it to me!” Lance blurted out before the other boy could say anything. The kid looked at Lance like he was crazy for even attempting to butt in but it at least drew the attention back on him. “He said he wanted to see it and she let me borrow it to show him,” he elaborated, hoping that Lotor would buy it.

Honestly, he looked skeptical at best but there was an amusement in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “So I see,” he replied, holding his hands up as he stepped back, a sly grin crossing his face. “Well, far be it from me to stand in the way of your studying. By all means.” He gestured to the direction the other boy had come from.

The Slytherin raven glanced at Lance for a second before tightening his grip on his elbow and pulling him towards a door on the other side of the room. “Thank you, Lotor,” he said through apparently gritted teeth. The tanned man gave them a slight wave, a completely fake polite smile plastered onto his face.

Upon entering the room, the black-haired boy finally let go of Lance and quickly shut the door, leaning against it as he breathed a sigh of relief. However, before Lance could even say anything, the guy turned to glare at him angrily.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he said in irritation. “Sneaking into the commons room during one of the seniors’ study session? Are you insane?!”

“So that’s why there were so many older students there?” Lance questioned weakly, having absolutely no idea what else to say. He hadn’t known about that; how could he? All he’d done was followed one of the members to the room so he could sneak in. Finding out the password was an extra level of commitment he didn’t want to give- and besides, he had no faith in actually being able to find that out.

“God, I helped a complete dumbass, didn’t I?” the kid said with a groan, standing up from where he’d been leaning on the door and gesturing to the room. “Well, you’re kind of stuck here now for a while- unless you wanna go tell Lotor it was all a lie?”

“Nonono, I’m good!” Lance took a look around the room as the other boy made his way over to the table. It was dark (what a surprise) but had an ornate chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling that shone a warm, golden glow upon the room. The walls were heavy wood with large glass windows showing the lake outside them where strange fish Lance had never seen before were swimming around. There was an old, baroque walnut table and matching chairs in the center of the room and bookshelves along the walls that didn’t have windows. All in all, it was surprisingly not-creepy.

“This is a private study room?” he asked, sliding into one of the chairs next to the boy. “Didn’t know Slytherin had those in their common room.”

“Most people don’t,” the guy replied matter-of-factly. “You _do_ know most students would never be this lucky to get to see them firsthand, right?”

“I do!” Lance protested, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. “It’s not my fault you Slytherin guys are so damn creepy and secretive all the time.”

“Is that how you should be thanking your savior?” the boy said, turning to look at Lance with a smirk, and Lance realized that his eyes were purple too. These, however, were a softer violet color and had something gentle behind them that Lotor definitely didn’t. Actually, looking at him now, the boy was quite handsome. Lance hadn’t really noticed at first, but in the faint light, there was a certain grace to him.

“Well, I think I should know my hero’s name first, don’t you? Since you somehow know mine,” Lance replied with a grin, resting his chin in his hand. The boy’s eyes widened in surprise before they hardened into a glare that Lance didn’t quite understand.

“Are you kidding?” When Lance made no gesture of agreement, the guy leaned back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. “I’m in your charms class, idiot! I sit two rows behind you near the back.”

Now that Lance was thinking about it, he did seem to recall someone who looked an awful lot like this guy in that class and suddenly he felt bad. “Look, I’m not the most observant of people out there,” he tried to explain.

“You’re telling me,” the boy answered with a huff. “I’m Keith. Keith Kogane.”

“You’re the guy who’s supposed to be some kind of prodigy!” Lance cried, instantly recognizing the name as one the professors threw around all the time as one of the students “destined for greatness” in their words- that is, if he could fix his attitude problem.

Keith looked a little uncomfortable at Lance’s outburst as he shifted in his chair. “I guess,” he said quietly. “Not that I really care about that.”

“...Well perfect!” Lance said happily, deciding to change subjects. “If you’re supposed to be this big smart guy, then you can help me with my potions homework! I have absolutely no idea where to start on that uncommon poisons essay and if I don’t get it done on time this time, Professor Ryner is going to have my head!”

“This time?” Keith echoed. “Professor Ryner is normally fairly lenient, what exactly did you do?”

“I may or may not have turned in the last three essays over two weeks late,” Lance answered sheepishly. “But it’s not my fault! I just don’t get potions at all, okay?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Keith chuckled. “I can’t believe you’ve managed to somehow turn every single one of them in that late so far. Talk about a special skill. I’m shocked she hasn’t punished you yet.”

“That’s because I’m way better at her charms class,” Lance explained. “She said that she “believes in my ability” and that I “just need to apply myself” harder. Well guess what, I’ve tried, and I don’t get what I don’t get.”

“Well, I suppose some assistance could be arranged,” Keith answered with a grin. “But on one condition.”

“And what’s that?” Lance questioned eagerly, glad he might have the possibility to finally understand something about potions. That class had just been going progressively downhill since year one for him.

“You let me use that invisibility cloak from time to time.” He pointed to the bundle that was set on the study room table. “I’ve always wanted to use one for myself, after all.”

“It isn’t mine though,” Lance said truthfully. “I can’t just give it to you.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to come with me then,” Keith replied simply. Lance was a little surprised at the boy’s proposition but he could see a hint of color on that fair skin and answered with a grin.

“Y’know, I could probably get Allura to agree to that,” he murmured as he leaned closer to Keith, elbows resting on the table. “Is that all?”

“That… and you have to help me with charms,” Keith said finally. When he saw Lance’s expression, he blushed and frowned. “Look, even I have things I’m bad at, okay?”

“To think the “prodigy” would be asking little old me for help with his schoolwork,” Lance crowed in amusement. “I’m so honored! It would be a true _pleasure_.” To accentuate that even further, the tanned teen stood up and bowed deeply towards Keith, one arm behind his back, the other out, and everything.

Keith laughed, a soft, breathy sound that Lance wouldn’t really have expected to come from someone like Keith. _‘Still, it was cute,’_ he thought. _‘He’s cute.’_ Then he realized what he’d just thought but, after a moment of consideration, decided to stick with it. Who said you had to be a girl to be cute? Certainly not Lance.

“Let’s get started then,” Keith said with a grin. Lance smiled back at him and made a quick decision to start seeking out Keith in his charms class. After all, opportunities to make friends from houses didn’t arise too often.

And who knows, maybe eventually, more than friends.


	5. Day 5: Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a Friday night and you know what that means: movie night! Keith only hopes he'll be able to keep acting straight when his crush is right fucking there.

“I’m back!” Keith called out as he entered the small dorm room he shared with another freshman, slinging his backpack to the side of the room as he collapsed in his desk chair. “You’d better not be jerking off up there again; you _know_ how long it takes to get the smell out.”

“That was one time!” his roommate protested, sticking his brunette head over the edge of his lofted bed to peer down at Keith. “I thought we both agreed that mistakes were made!”

“We did; doesn’t mean I’ll ever let you live it down,” Keith answered as he dug his laptop out to plug it in. The charge just wasn’t what it used to be on the thing and it barely lasted him a full day of classes.

“I hate you,” Lance moaned back as he sat up and stretched. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, Keith stared in appreciation at the lithe muscular legs, that tanned skin doing wonders for the faint lines the muscles created. Ever since they’d first met, Keith had pretty much been crushing on Lance. Who knew he’d get so lucky and get paired with a hottie during the random room assignments?

Still, he’d never say that to Lance. The guy fawned over pretty women on a daily basis; Keith wasn’t about to risk their friendship just because that blonde girl from Lance’s calculus class wasn’t the only one who wanted in his pants.

“Keep saying shit like that and I’m not gonna help you with the take-home test for chem,” was Keith’s retort, and an effective one at that, judging by Lance’s indignant cry of anger.

“You promised!” he said, leaping down off the last rung of the ladder to practically vault himself onto Keith, latching his arms around the raven’s shoulders as he begged, “C’mon Keith, don’t be like that; my sweet, wonderful, amazing roommate would never do something so terrible, so heinous, so _vile_ as to go back on a promise, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith answered, rolling his eyes and doing his best to keep a straight face while Lance was pretty much rubbing himself all over him. An erection was the last thing he needed right now. “You know you’ll have to know how to do it yourself on the final, right?”

“The final’s the final, this is this,” Lance said simply, finally (thankfully) pulling away to fall back onto the futon propped up as a sofa underneath his bed. “I’ll worry about that in two months when we get there. Now enough school talk! Or did you forget what day it was?”

Keith grinned. “How could I?” he replied. “It was your turn to pick, wasn’t it? Tell me, what’s in store for tonight?”

Lance grabbed the TV remote, switched it on, and navigated to netflix with the speed and precision of a seasoned pro. Quickly scrolling through the movies, he finally stopped at one with the cover image of a woman in white face paint with sprawling black face makeup, a dark crown positioned atop her perfectly-groomed brunette bun, the only color being the deep red lipstick that matched the color of the woman’s eyes.

“Black Swan?” Keith couldn’t help but question. “I thought you didn’t like horror movies?”

“But you know what I do like? Natalie Portman,” Lance answered, a sly grin on his face as he winked at Keith. “And Mila Kunis for that matter. And y’know, Winona Ryder isn’t all that bad either.”

“Gross Lance, she’s more than twice your age, even when this movie was made,” Keith complained, ignoring the tightening feeling in his chest.

“Love knows no boundaries, my good friend,” Lance chided, adopting an overly sarcastic motherly tone as he continued. “You are clearly far too inexperienced when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Keith couldn’t help but mutter before saying aloud “Whatever, just start the movie. I’ll get the popcorn ready during the opening credits.”

…

“Can you even watch the movie like that?” Keith asked, much too interested in how Lance was covering his face with his hands instead of the movie.

“It’s called looking through your fingers, Keith,” came the muffled response. “And it is a tried-and-true method for people with weak constitutions to enjoy the more horrific side of things once in awhile.”

“‘Weak constitution’ my ass, more like a baby.” That got Lance to actually look at him with an angry bark of disapproval. “There we go, you can finally see now!”

“Asshole,” Lanced muttered as he turned back to the TV. They sat in silence watching the movie for a few seconds before the tanned man spoke up again. “By the way, um, what’s going on right now?”

Keith scoffed at his question but resisted poking further fun at him. “Lily laced Nina’s drink with ecstasy, they went clubbing, and now Nina’s fighting with her mom.

“Oh. Thanks,” Lance answered. Of course, Keith had neglected to mention where the movie was leading next and when Natalie Portman slammed the door and then her face against Mila Kunis’ face, his cry of shock was all too clear.

“I thought this was supposed to be a horror movie!” he moaned, grabbing a pillow and clenching his fists around it, muffled complaints drifting out from behind it as his face flushed red. “How can I possibly sit here and watch two hot girls make out?! That’s practically asking for trouble!”

“No more jacking it, remember?” Keith answered sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest with a roll of his eyes.

“How can you sit there and be fine?!” Lance yelled, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Aren’t you a healthy teenage boy too?!”

“Well that’s easy; I’m gay,” Keith had said before he could stop himself and instantly felt his blood run cold. He hadn’t told Lance that yet; it had just never come up and Keith was fine with keeping it that way. Now he waited with dread for some kind of reaction, just praying that it wasn’t one of disgust.

“Oh. Well that does make sense, I guess.”

And that was all he said. Not another word more, to the point where Keith couldn’t help but blurt out “That’s it?! Your roommate just came out to your and your only response is ‘oh’?!”

“Well what did you think I’d say?” Lance questioned, turning to look at Keith. “It’s 2019 y’know; it’s not that uncommon. And besides, I’m not prejudice or anything. One of my sisters is a lesbian, so no worries.”

Keith stared at him in surprise. He did kind of have a point but that still didn’t stop the raven from being pretty much blown away. Being from Texas, he was sort of used to most people looking at him differently, even the more tolerant ones. When Lance didn’t say anything else, Keith just slowly turned back to the room, still reeling from what was probably the most lackluster response he’d ever gotten from coming out before.

A couple minutes later, Lance suddenly said aloud, “Black Swan, but with Chris Hemsworth as Mila Kunis and Leonardo DiCaprio as Natalie Portman.”

“What?”

“If it were those two in the movie, then would you feel my pain?” Lance elaborated and it took Keith a second to get what he was referring to. When he did, he scoffed aloud.

“Really? _Those_ two? Please. Chris Hemsworth is one thing, but Leonardo DiCaprio? I’ll take Christian Bale over Leo any day.”

“Ah, a fan of the dark and brooding type, huh?” Lance mused, thinking to himself. Keith was just glad he’d said someone who wasn’t more similar to Lance in terms of looks or personality. Honestly, he’d just picked someone off the top of his head who he thought was pretty attractive and hoped for the best- not that there was really a wrong name, with the type of actors that were filling Hollywood these days.

“Hey Keith,” Lance said again and, with a stifled sigh (because really, couldn’t they just watch the movie?), Keith turned to look at Lance.

“Wha-” was all he had time to get out before he felt something hit his lips, cutting off his sentence before he’d even gotten the first word out. It took him much longer than it should have for him to realize that the thing touching his lips were Lance’s lips and that they weren’t just touching, they were kissing. Lance was kissing _him_.

Honestly, the technique wasn’t the best and the angle was a little awkward too and their teeth hit more than once, but Keith didn’t think he’d ever had a better kiss in his entire life. Lance’s lips were softer than he’d imagined and tasted a little like mint, which he knew was from the tube of Burt’s Bees chapstick Lance carried around “to be prepared.” Keith had always teased him that he had nothing to be prepared for, but he clearly couldn’t have been more wrong.

When Lance pulled away, licking his lips with a cheeky grin, Keith couldn’t help but stare in shock. “I’m not really brooding, but hey, I’m dark, right?” the teen grinned at his own stupid joke as Keith finally found his voice again.

“Y-You-”

“Oh, I probably should’ve said this sooner, but I’m bi,” Lance added, lacing his fingers behind his head as he reclined back against the couch. “Benjamin Millepied is also pretty nice in this- but don’t worry, you’re much cuter.”

Keith felt his cheeks heat up at Lance’s words before finally letting out a quiet chuckle. Honestly? Knowing Lance, it figures. Keith had always wondered why he got so excited when they walked past the soccer team practicing.

“You know what this means?” Keith said aloud, shifting against the futon as he glanced over at Lance.

“Do tell,” Lance replied, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. Keith grinned.

“We’re totally watching Brokeback Mountain next.”


	6. Day 6: Supernatural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to prove to Pidge once and for all that ghosts exist, and Lance is determined. Keith is just along for the ride, just like always.

The second he put the car in park and gazed out the window, Lance knew that he truly had found the perfect spot. An old Victorian-era house like this that hadn’t been touched in over a hundred years with as gruesome a history as this one _surely_ had to be filled to the brim with genuine paranormality. Or all those TV shows and books had been steering him wrong this whole time. Either way, he was ready,

“Lance, I think you need to rethink this.”

Apparently, his partner was not. “And I think you need to shut your piehole,” was Lance’s immediate response, glaring at the raven as he slammed the car door shut. “This is gonna be perfect; exactly what I need to prove to Pidge once and for all that ghosts are real.”

“Do you really have to? I don’t see why it’s more important than risking getting infected with asbestos,” Keith replied, staring up at the house with a shudder. “Look at it, that place is _screaming_ ‘infectious disease.’”

“You’re just too uptight. It’s not like you’ve ever been sick before, you’ll be fine,” Lance answered as he grabbed the camera from the backseat along with the other rudimentary equipment he’d managed to procure before the spontaneous trip. Once he was sure it was all secured away somewhere, he headed up towards the house.

“That’s not it,” Keith argued but followed him up the path anyway. “Something about this place gives my bad vibes.”

“So do campfire mochas from Caribou, what’s your point?”

“Look, that drink is not coffee; it’s a dessert disguised as caffeine and anyone who disagrees is just deluding themselves. And you’re getting me off track, don’t think I don’t notice what you’re trying to do.”

“Aw, c’mon, those are good!” Lance protested as he stepped onto the front porch. The wood creaked underneath his feet, a slight tremor shaking the ancient boards with each step. There were cobwebs all over and a few suspicious holes that looked like mice and voles may have moved in when humans declined to.

“Just be careful, okay?” As Keith followed him onto the stoop, he took a quick glance around before turning his attention back on Lance. “You’re too reckless for your own good anyway; it’s a wonder you aren’t dead yet.”

“You’re telling me,” Lance muttered as he grabbed the doorknob, ignoring Keith's warning about tetanus as he turned it and pushed the door open. It let out a groan of complaint as it slowly heaved open on hinges that hadn’t moved in at least a decade.

“This is a bad idea,” Keith repeated as he peered over Lance’s shoulder into the house beyond. “Just look at this place; it’s a nightmare!”

“I’ll show you a nightmare if you don’t shut up!” Lance snapped in irritation as he entered into the building, ignoring Keith’s blatant scoff of disapproval.

It truly did look disgustingly old, but honestly? Not very scary. Sure, the ugly floral wallpaper was yellowed and peeling, exposed bricks peeking out from behind where it had fell away, the floor was full of chips and holes and didn’t look very safe to walk on, the windows mostly didn’t have glass anymore and what remained was broken and dangerous-looking, but nothing about it really screamed horror to Lance. The scariest thing was probably how bad his allergies were gonna flare up thanks to all the dust he’d already managed to kick up.

“This place is a dump,” he observed, eyeing a suspiciously-furry looking moss that was growing on the corner of one of the walls. Probably mold.

“Wow, who'da thunk?” Keith replied exasperatedly, appearing next to Lance with a look of obvious disdain on his face. “I get not wanting to live in a house in the middle of nowhere, but why not just tear it down?”

“Hunk’s grandpa spent his whole childhood here; it’s got sentimental value,” Lance explained, recalling the story Hunk had told him. “His family wants to wait until his grandpa passes on before they tear it down or sell it or something.”

“Well that’s morbid,” Keith stated with a roll of his eyes.

“Not as morbid as this place is supposed to be,” Lance paused, “Although, emphasis on ‘supposed to be’ I guess. Hunk said that two of his grandpa’s siblings and one of his uncles died here.”

“I don’t think death itself is all that morbid.”

“Isn’t that kind of the definition of morbid though?”

“No wonder your grades are so bad,” Keith answered with a shrug of his shoulders, enjoying Lance’s cry of complaint. “Morbid is talking about a fascination or an interest, rather than the actual thing itself.”

“Wow, thanks professor, guess I won’t fail my next calculus test.” Lance walked further into the house, looking around for anything that had a single ounce of suspicion to it. “I knew we should’ve come during nighttime.”

“And have you trip over something and fall on a rusty nail and die? No thank you.”

“I’m not _that_ clumsy, asshole,” Lance snapped with a glare. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

“Why must you insist on pushing your luck even further?” Keith moaned, head in his hands.

“His uncle died falling down the stairs; we have to at _least_ check them, you doofus. I have an infrared camera and everything; let’s go.”

“If so many people died here, why is the sentimental value so high?” The raven wondered aloud as he trailed after Lance. “You’d think they’d want to get rid of it immediately.”

“I dunno, it’s old people, man.” A few feet ahead of him, Lance had already rounded the corner into what had once been the kitchen, looking for the staircase. “Old people are whack.”

“Did you really just say whack?”

“What’s wrong with saying whack?” he defended himself as he finally spotted what he was looking for. “Oh gross; look at that.”

He pointed to an ugly suspiciously-rust-colored stain on the carpet beneath the decrepit, decaying staircase. It was fairly large and seemed just a little too much like real blood to be fake. That, and the fact that it seemed to be a perfect distance away for someone’s cranium to land after slipping.

“Think it’s the real deal?” he asked as he took a step further, bending down to take a picture with the disposable camera he’d brought. “Looks like the right color.”

“Why would they not clean the carpet?”

“Apparently the accident happened while they were moving out; it wasn’t really their house anymore.”

“Well no wonder no one wanted to move in, with a massive bloodstain on the floor,” Keith said in exasperation, his hands flying into the air. “I know they’re related to Hunk and all, but just how airheaded can they be?”

“I’m going upstairs,” Lance decided, pulling out the video camera to fiddle around with it. “It’s dark enough for infrared, right? It’s pretty dark in here.”

“Lance, do you really have to-”

“It’s for science, Keith! _Science!”_ Lance interrupted him before he could finish, pressing a button on the side of the camcorder and peering through the viewfinder until the heat map appeared before him. “I see a suspicious cold spot up there,” he observed, noting a line of blue among the warm colors of the screen.

“Looks more like a window-frame to me,” Keith added.

“It is a _suspicious cold spot!”_ he declared with certainty, heading up the stairs. That probably wasn’t his best idea because with each step, they seemed to shudder even more, the echoing creaks filling the house.

“Be careful,” Keith said, remaining at the foot of the stairs. “Wouldn’t wanna fall and make this bloodstain bigger.”

“They’d be so _honored_ if I dared grace this house with even a drop of my blood,” Lance joked, leaning against the railing as he turned the video camera towards a faint rectangular outline in the wallpaper, probably from where a picture used to hang.

As he examined an edge that seemed to be a slightly different shade of yellow-green than the rest of the wall, Lance heard Keith yell something that was instantly drowned out by a loud cracking sound that seemed to pierce through the eerily quiet house and then his back was braced against nothing.

He let out a startled yelp as the banister caved under his weight, sending him reeling backwards, unable to catch himself since both hands were filled with the video camera- which, of course, was Pidge’s. She’d kill him if he let it break, so he grasped it tightly as he fell backwards, slamming into the ground with a loud thud.

His breath rushed out of his lungs as he lay there winded, a rasping cough shaking his whole body as the world slowly stopped spinning and came back into focus, the little black spots fading from his vision.

Keith appeared above him, a terrified expression on his face. “Are you okay?! It wasn’t that far but that was such a loud sounds; I tried to catch you but-”

“Fine,” Lance gasped out, relaxing his grip on the camera. “I’m fine. Shit, that scared me though.”

“This is why I told you this was a bad idea!” Keith chided, leaning back now that he knew Lance was okay. “You didn’t need to do all this, y’know, it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t believe in ghosts. Her brain’s too scientific for that stuff anyway, you know-”

“It _does_ matter!” Lance interrupted, sitting up as he rounded on Keith. “It does! Because her not believing in them is the same as-”

“Lance. If I say it’s fine, then it’s fine.” Keith’s voice was quieter now, a solemn expression on his face as he looked down at the tanned teen. “It’s not your place to decide that for me, okay?”

Lance’s face morphed into one of defeated desperation. “...Don’t you think I know that?” he muttered, hanging his head in his hands. “It’s for myself, you idiot. Because… because what if I’ve just been alone this whole time? I wouldn’t be able to take that.”

“You aren’t though,” Keith murmured softly, leaning down. He reached out to Lance but hesitated when only a few centimeters remained. It didn’t matter even if he tried; they both knew he’d never be able to touch Lance again.

“But I don’t know that,” Lance answered, looking up to stare at the space Keith was supposed to be occupying. “Since I’m the only one who sees you now.”

To anyone else, he was just talking to air.


	7. Day 7: Internet Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith turns to video games to escape his overbearing foster parents and meets a certain someone online. Maybe they're actually closer than he thinks.

“God, will you just leave me alone already?! For the last time, I’m not going to that stupid dinner party you’re throwing!” Keith yelled angrily before slamming the door in his foster father’s face, not even bothering to listen to the protests coming from behind it. “It’s not like you really want me there anyway,” he muttered, tossing his backpack onto his bed before he collapsed into his desk chair, face planting squarely on the hardwood table.

“This fucking blows.” He twisted his head to stare at the picture frame set up near the back of his desk. In it, he was standing next to another boy, a few years older than him, who was ruffling his hair, their grins forever frozen in place in the polaroid print.

“Why can’t you come home already, Shiro?” he said with a groan as he sat back up, opening up his laptop. “Why’d you have to go to college on the other side of the country?”

Of course, he could already hear his foster brother’s words echoing in his head about how important it was to get that scholarship and how he couldn’t just let the opportunity slip from his grasp. Keith got it; of course he did, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Trying to switch his attention to something else, he saw he had a message over steam in the lower right of his computer. Opening it up, he noticed that the handle was from the same guy he’d been playing Rainbow Six: Siege with the night before. That guy, while a great Hibana and exceptional at offense, had gotten his ass kicked every time he was switched to defense. Keith had wasted no time in letting him have it when he’d gotten the whole team killed for the sixth time in a row in eight different games.

_LLoverBoiii at 08:36: Dude we totes rocked yesterday at RSS! If u wanna we should team up again! I’m free after 5 today so lmk_

Keith couldn’t help but grin at the message. “His grammar is heinous,” he observed, glancing down to see what time it was right now. 5:26 PM. There wasn’t really any way of knowing if they were in the same time zone or even the same country, but you know what? Keith could use a break right about now.

_KogayneKing at 17:27: You there? I can play now._

The response was almost instantaneous, as if the guy had been waiting for Keith to message him back.

_LLoverBoiii at 17:27: Awesum! More RSS or smth else?_

_KogayneKing at 17:28: Anything, really._

_LLoverBoiii at 17:29: oof ruff day?_

_KogayneKing at 17:31: I guess. We gonna play or what?_

_LLoverBoiii at 17:32: ye my b. Log on lets do RSS_

Keith did as he was told, glad that this random dude didn’t seem like he wanted to pry into his life. He wasn’t looking for that, it was just nice to have someone to game with. He didn’t really have any friends at school who were into that- or any friends in general. Well, there was that one guy in his english class, but Keith figured he didn't really count. He was nice to everyone, after all.

They played for almost four hours straight, and Keith didn’t think he’d had this much fun in a long time. Sure, he still sucked at defense, but it was just nice to play with someone he sort of knew and not just a full team of randos. They only stopped when the guy said he needed to go have dinner.

_LLoverBoiii at 21:48: srry I gtg but I had fun! Same time tmmrw?_

_KogayneKing at 21:49: You do realize we might not even be in the same time zone, right?_

_LLoverBoiii at 21:51: o o f look at that proper grammr. sad. and i’m in central btw_

_KogayneKing at 21:55: Look at those spelling errors. Pathetic. And so am I._

When he didn’t immediately receive a response, Keith figured he’d probably left to eat or something. That left just him and his own thoughts. The rest of the house was silent and he assumed it was because his foster parents had decided he was a lost cause for the party and just left. Which left the question of what to eat for dinner.

Honestly? He wasn’t really hungry. How bad would it be if he just didn’t eat dinner? All he really wanted to do right now was go to sleep but of course he had homework to do before then. That’s what he got for playing video games instead of working on it earlier, he figured and stretched his arms over his head before pulling out his chemistry textbook.

Around an hour later, he heard a ping from his laptop and looked to see that the guy had messaged him back.

_LLoverBoiii at 22:49: srry was eatin. so same time then?_

_KogayneKing at 22:50: Yeah. Sure._

_LLoverBoiii at 22:50: sweeeeeet. c u then!_

Keith grinned at the farewell, even if he did find it a little stupid. They wouldn’t actually see each other; internet friends didn’t really work like that. Still, it was nice to have someone who wasn’t Shiro saying they were looking forward to doing something with him. It had been a long time since he’d felt something like that, after all.

…

After that initial night, Keith found that playing games with LLoverBoiii quickly became part of his normal routine. They even eventually moved to voice chat and games other than Rainbow Six. Keith discovered that he was great at Borderlands but absolutely terrible at Stardew Valley- although how you could be _bad_ at Stardew Valley was beyond him.

“Just what is so complicated about planting crops?!” Keith bellowed, shocked that he had somehow killed off their entire coffee bean field.

“It’s the crows, man!” crackled the boy’s voice over discord. Keith still didn’t know his name; every time he’d asked, the guy had evaded the question. He decided he was fine with that and that everyone deserves their privacy- even if it was sort of a lie. “They’re everywhere!”

“So build a scarecrow! I told you to do that _yesterday!”_ Keith immediately retorted.

“I may or may not have accidentally forgotten to do that,” came the defense- which was, admittedly, a very weak one.

“God!” Keith was about to yell something else when he heard a knock on his door. Hoping he could just ignore it, when he came again, he was none too pleased. “One sec,” he said, pulling his headset off and closing the laptop halfway.

He got up and walked over to his bedroom door, opening it to see his foster parents standing behind it. “What?” he asked warily, already not liking the posture they both had.

“Keith, honey, we need to talk about your grades,” his mother said. Her words, while kind, had an icy tone underlying them and Keith instantly knew where this was going. “Your father and I got your report card the other day, and honestly, we’re not impressed.”

“Just what do you think we’re sending you to school for?” his father added, not even bothering to hide his anger. “With grades like that, we might as well send you off to live on the streets now, seeing as you won’t get into college like that!”

“They weren’t _that_ bad,” Keith argued, clenching his fists as he tried to bite back his own irritation. “And I’m not aiming for an ivy league or whatever, so it’s fine.”

“It is most certainly not _‘fine’_ young man,” his mother said. “You’re spending far too much time on that computer of yours! We got that for you to study with, not fool around!”

“I _am_ studying! So I don’t have straight A’s, it’s not like that’s gonna ruin my life!”

“With that attitude, you’ll do that to yourself!” the woman cried, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned into her husband. “Is it us, sweetie? Are we the problem?”

 _‘Here it comes,’_ Keith thought, barely holding back an eye roll as his father immediately went into a defensive posture. _‘Her favorite guilt trip.’_

“Of course not,” his father said, wrapping an arm protectively around his wife. “It’s that stupid computer and those violent games he plays all the time.” Turning his focus back on Keith, he glared at his adopted son before saying, “If you bring home grades like that again, you will be in serious trouble. Don’t forget the reason you get to live here in the first place.”

That was it. Keith had had it. Sure, he knew from the start they’d only adopted him because it would make them look good; to take in the son of his foster father’s friend when he and his wife had died in a car accident. An accident that had given his foster father a promotion while it had left Keith parentless.

From the start, he hadn’t expected their love, hadn’t even wanted it. But he had hoped that they’d at least leave him alone and let him live his own life. However, that clearly wasn’t going to happen.

“I think you’re forgetting something,” he seethed, taking a step forward with narrowed eyes and a terrifying scowl on his face. “That I’m not your kid, and I’m not your family. And I am most definitely _not_ Shiro! So stop comparing me to him all the goddamn time!” His foster parents looked shocked by his outburst but he honestly just didn’t care anymore.

“I have my own life now; I’m not a kid anymore! I’m almost eighteen, and as soon as I can, I’m leaving this fucking awful house! Who needs your shitty support anyway?!” Breathing hard, he grabbed the door and yelled, “I’m not just your goddamn problem!” before slamming it in their faces, leaning back against as he tried to calm down.

It took a few seconds for him to hear footsteps retreating down the hall, mutters drifting under the crack of the door that he deliberately forced himself to not listen to. Sliding down the door frame, he buried his head in his knees with a shuddering sigh. There was no way he was going to cry; he was seventeen. Too old for that.

But for a long time, he didn’t move.

Not until he heard faint sounds coming from his headset.

And then he realized that he’d forgotten to leave the call before he answered the door and that the boy had probably heard everything. With a heavy heart, Keith pushed himself to his feet and slowly approached his desk chair, considering just ending the call there.

Instead, something made him pull the headset back on and say quietly, “Hey.”

There was silence for a few seconds before a soft staticky voice echoed across the channel. “Are you okay?”

Keith was still, wrapping his fists around the edges of the wooden chair. He drew in a shaky breath, ready to say that he was fine, to come up with some excuse and suggest they just get back to playing. But he didn’t want to do that.

“Honestly?” he sighed. “No.”

“...Wanna talk about it?”

That was the first time the boy had ever asked Keith about himself ever since they’d first talked all those months ago. To think it had been that long already since they’d met online. Part of Keith wanted to talk to him. Another part didn’t.

“No,” he said at last. Ever since Shiro had left for college five years ago, Keith hadn’t talked to anyone about his feelings. He’d barely even talked to Shiro about them. Yet somehow, something about this random stranger he’d met through a video game made him want to talk about himself. “But I think I will. One day.”

“Okay,” was the boy’s response. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“...So what would you do if I said I wanted to meet you?”

Keith froze. “...What?” was all that would come out. He thought this guy had no interest in letting Keith know anything about him; he was honestly shocked.

“Sorry, sorry! That probably made you uncomfortable; you can just-”

“No, no! It’s okay! I was just… surprised. I didn’t think you’d want to meet,” he replied honestly.

“Oh.” From the tone of his voice, the boy sounded almost… hurt? “Okay. Well, um, I do. Is that okay?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. But you don’t even know where I live, how do we-”

“Do you trust me?”

Keith frowned in confusion at the sudden question. “What?”

“Do you trust me?” he repeated, sounding more earnest than before.

“I-I guess?” Keith answered after a second, because really, what else was he supposed to say?

“Then just wait for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, after all.” With those words, the noise from the other end of the microphone died as the boy left the call.

Keith had a million things he wanted to ask right now. First of all, how did this guy know what he looked like? How did he know where he lived? How would he see him tomorrow when the only place he was going was school? And the biggest one was probably how this guy even knew who he was?

But he’d already hung up, so Keith had no choice but to wait.

…

Half the day had already gone by and Keith was ready for it to end. He’d spent every minute at school looking over his shoulder and getting slightly excited every time anyone spoke to him. Kept thinking it was LLoverBoiii. Honestly, he probably should have expected this, for it to just be some sort of cruel joke or whatever.

As he walked into english class and sat down, he resolved to stop feeling so anxious. What was the point of getting hurt like an idiot?

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching him and looked up to see Lance McClain, the guy who always partnered with him in class, standing over his desk.

“Hey,” he said in a friendly tone, grinning down at Keith. Keith had always thought that smile was kind of cute.

“...Hey?” Keith answered back, a little confused why Lance was greeting him. He didn’t normally.

“Just as I thought, you have no idea, do you?” Lance said with a sigh, falling into the desk next to Keith. The raven was going to point out that that wasn’t his seat but stopped as he processed Lance’s words.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, but then the pieces started to slowly fit together. Lance, who was always a self-proclaimed ladies man, who was well known for spending his time playing video games and goofing around instead of doing homework, who lived in the same time zone in the same town as Keith. Lance, who had to be- “LLoverBoiii?”

“Bingo!” Lance cried happily. “Honestly Keith, I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out sooner! I’d be hurt if I didn’t know how socially inept you are!”

“But- I mean- how’d you-”

“Know it was you?” Lance grinned at him. “Your username kind of gave it away. Kogayne, Kogane, basically the same thing. Although I didn’t know you were actually gay.”

Keith’s eyes widened. “That’s-”

“Relax, I haven’t told anyone.” Lance waved his hand in dismissal at Keith’s frantic expression. “Why would I do that? Then I might have to share you, and that would blow.”

“Sh-Share me?” he couldn’t help but stammer in embarrassment. That sounded a little too familiar for his liking- not that he would dislike being called Lance’s.

“Yeah. You’re _my_ gaming partner. No one else’s.”

Oh. So that’s what he’d meant. It was a little embarrassing to feel his heart sink at those words but he couldn’t say he was surprised at them.

“And who knows,” Lance suddenly continued. “Maybe actual partner. Eventually.”

Keith’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, sending Lance into hysterics. It was, again, embarrassing. Keith wasn’t used to this at all. But still, it was cute when Lance laughed. He’d always thought Lance was cute.

“You don’t really think I’d go out of my way to pair up with someone as dark and gloomy as you without having some sort of motive?” Lance said between giggles. “It’s not like I do it for your stellar academic performance.”

“Shut up,” Keith muttered begrudgingly, reaching out to shove Lance’s shoulder in an attempt to hide his fluster. “It’s not like your grades are any better.”

“Yeah, they’re way worse,” Lance agreed, leaning back in his chair. Just then, the bell rang signalling that class was about to start. The actual person who sat in the chair Lance was occupying entered the class, causing the other teen to stand up. Pausing to add one last thing, he leaned down to whisper “Maybe I’ll just have to get you to tutor me instead of gaming all the time?” before turning and heading to his own desk in the second row.

Keith felt himself turn red, not missing the underlying tone Lance’s voice had had. He let out a frustrated groan, drawing a strange look from the boy who’d sat down next to him. Hearing snickering, he looked up to see Lance staring at him. The tanned teen grinned, giving him a wave and a wink as the teacher told him to turn around and face the class.

This blatant display of affection, completely unabashed and without shame, was absolutely not something Keith was used to.

But, he thought, all things considered, it was definitely something he could.


	8. Day 8: Garrison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just his luck that Keith gets lost on his first day at the garrison.

Keith remembered his first day at the garrison like it was just yesterday, like it was the most important thing that had ever happened to him- and in a way, it sort of was. That day marked the start of something that he’d always dreamed of, even if he hadn’t been too keen to join at first. And besides, it meant that he’d get to be with Shiro more, which, after everything that happened with his family, pretty much meant the world to him.

However, there was another reason, another thing he wasn’t ever going to admit to anyone except the ceiling of his room late at night when there wasn’t a soul around to hear him. It didn’t fit with the image everyone had of him and he knew that all too well.

But every once in awhile, he’d fall asleep thinking about the events of that day and that bright smile that lit up his life for the all-too-brief seconds it lasted.

…

“It’s only been your first day and you’ve already managed to piss off Iverson,” Shiro said with a sigh, reclining in the chair in an overly dramatic fashion that Keith knew was designed to make him feel guilty. “Really, Keith, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“He shouldn’t have gotten on my nerves,” was Keith’s only response. “He’s too damn loud.”

“He’s a teacher, Keith, he has to project his voice.”

“Well he should project it somewhere else then.” Keith had already decided not to mention to Shiro that his anger was mostly because that asshole Iverson had the indecency to insult his dad right in front of him. Shiro would get upset on his behalf if he knew and he didn’t want to get the older brother figure in trouble.

“Look, Keith, it was one thing to act like this after your father passed away. I wanted to give you time to work through it, to grieve, and I assumed that you’d mature a little after you’d gone through the process yourself.” Keith could tell that Shiro was launching into his ‘holier-than-thou’ lecture mode and clicked his tongue in irritation. “However, you can’t keep doing this; you can’t keep lashing out. You’re at a school now, you need to behave. I want you to have your freedom and be who you are, but not if it means continually insulting and degrading professors that you should be looking up to-”

“I’ll never look up to someone like that,” Keith interrupted, not caring that he was probably just going to upset Shiro more. It didn’t matter; his pride was the one thing he was never going to give up. “He doesn’t deserve my respect.”

“Keith;” Shiro’s tone had sharpened and, not wanting to have to listen any longer, the twelve-year-old stood and bolted out of the room. He heard Shiro calling after him but refused to listen, propelling himself further down the hall until he’d turned a corner and the older boy had disappeared from sight.

Ignoring the strange looks from the few random strangers he passed in the halls, Keith didn’t stop running until Shiro’s voice had long since faded and he didn’t recognize anything around him. That was good; it meant that he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew. Perfect.

He glanced around and found a door that he quickly crept through, entering a room that was dark save for the large windows on the back of the room. It looked like some sort of library of sorts, although it was smaller than he’d expect one to be. The sun was setting through the big windows lining the back wall, lighting up the room in a warm, golden glow as he walked up to them. Looking out, he saw nothing but desert and sky. Somehow, seeing all that calmed him.

Keith sat down under one of the windows, watching as the light shining on the floor crept closer and closer to him with the lowering sun. He sat there and didn’t move for a long time, thoughts eventually dying down to just mere trickles.

It wasn’t until the light was nearly gone that he broached the subject of returning to Shiro. He probably should; the boy might be worried about him and he didn’t like worrying Shiro. There was most likely another way for him to react that wouldn’t have been so childish, but he just couldn’t help it; Iverson was not someone he could ever respect.

Shiro, however, was. And he was probably looking for Keith right now.

Just as he decided to go back, he came to the quick realization that he really did have no idea where he was. It was his first day at the garrison, and while he’d been shown around the basic areas, this seemed like one of those old archives that had been forgotten by most people. Running around blindly for twenty minutes certainly hadn’t helped.

As he sat there, wondering what to do, he heard the creak of a door and his head shot up to stare at the person entering the room.

It was a boy, short, probably around Keith’s age, with tan skin and brown hair that seemed to glow in what little light remained. He seemed surprised to see Keith in the room and instantly approached him.

“What’re you doing here?” the strange boy asked, standing over him with his hands on his hips. “This room is supposed to be off limits.”

“Why are you here then?” Keith echoed. That seemed to catch the kid off guard and Keith smirked. “Looks like we’re both breaking the rules.”

“...I won’t tell if you won’t,” the kid responded, kneeling down next to Keith with his hands resting on his hands. He cocked his head sideways, trying to get a better look at Keith, and in the process, Keith noticed how startlingly blue his eyes were. Like the ocean,

“I don’t even know who I would tell, so don’t worry,” Keith scoffed, looking away. He didn’t like being scrutinized like this.

The boy, surprisingly, seemed to notice that and backed away a bit with a hum of thought. “You must be the new recruit,” he said suddenly. “I heard some of the professors talking about a new kid joining late; is that you?”

“What’s it to you?” Keith answered sharply. Why was this kid so damn inquisitive?

“We’re in the same grade,” the tan boy explained. “Probably not the same class, but the same age! Don’t you want a friend or something?”

“I don’t need friends.” It was mostly true; Keith hadn’t been interested in making friends ever since he was a young kid. If he could get by fine on his own, then he’d never be let down.

“ _Everyone_ needs friends,” the boy replied, eyeing Keith carefully. He seemed to be thinking about something that Keith couldn’t quite grasp but just as quickly, it was gone, replaced with a carefree smile. “So you should be mine!”

 _‘What’s a good way to tell a brat to fuck off?’_ Keith thought to himself with a roll of his eyes. Just his luck, meeting another person he could tell he wouldn’t get along with. Still, there was something about this kid, something that Keith felt inexplicably drawn to. He hated that.

The two both looked up as noise came over the intercom, the inaudible static eventually replaced with a voice telling the time and announcing that dinner was to be served soon. As if in reaction to that, Keith’s stomach immediately rumbled. He heard snickering and shot a sharp glare at the boy next to him.

“Let’s go get dinner,” he said excitedly, holding out his hand. Keith glanced at it for a few seconds before shoving it away.

“I can’t. I need to go back to Shiro.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean Takashi Shirogane, do you? You know him?! Wow, that’s so cool! He’s my hero, y’know!”

Keith puffed out his chest a little at that as he said “‘Course I know him. Who do you think recruited me?”

“That must mean you’re really good!” the boy said excitedly. “You’re so lucky; I wish he knew who I was! Forget being good, I’m barely average on a good day.” He laughed at his own words but Keith could hear the bitterness behind it.

“You probably just need more practice,” Keith found himself saying before he could help it. “You’re not that old, after all.”

“Hey! I’m plenty old enough! I’m already eleven, okay?”

 _‘A year younger than me,’_ Keith observed. _‘Though we’ll probably still be in the same year since I’m starting late.’_

“Anyway, you can at least walk with me a little, right? Maybe I can get to see Shiro if I stay with you!” Although a little offended, Keith admired the boy’s blatant honesty. Still, his issue of having no idea where he was was something he didn’t want to make known.

“That’s okay. I wanna stay here. You can go eat or something,” he said weakly, not having any other excuse to give the kid.

The boy stared down at him skeptically before a wide shit-eating grin spread across his face. “You don’t know where to go, do you?”

“N-No!” Keith sputtered. “I do! I just wanna cool off more first!”

“...Then we’ll cool off together,” the kid said, sitting down next to Keith. Before he had the chance to pull away, the boy laced their fingers together and turned to smile at him. “And once you’re all good, then we’ll go back together! Being with someone is better than being alone, right?”

Keith wanted to tell him to just leave him alone already but something about the boy’s expression made him hesitate. And besides, it would be nice to get back to Shiro without losing too much face. The kid seemed to be giving him a chance to avoid admitting he was lost, which was something Keith was thankful for.

“...I guess,” he muttered finally, resting his chin in his free hand with a quiet huff, cheeks tinged pink in awkward embarrassment. The boy looked surprised at him actually agreeing before a wide smile burst across his face as he laughed.

Now that he thought about it, that was probably the first time he truly thought about what gender he was attracted to. After all, that smile was so beautiful.

It was only after he’d long since returned to Shiro, apologizing begrudgingly and receiving a massive bear hug before Shiro lectured him on running off on his own, that he realized he’d never asked for the boy’s name.

When the two finally met again, the boy didn’t seem to remember Keith at all. Maybe that was part of why Keith was so antagonistic towards him after that. Besides, Keith would rather die before admitting that Lance had been his first crush.


	9. Day 9: Movie of Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The movie I chose was the Great Gatsby! I've always loved the book and the 2013 movie and just really wanted to write this! it was so much fun writing in a more sophisticated old-timey style? Obviously it isn't perfect, but I had a lot of fun with this one!

If someone were to ask Keith just what he was doing here, so near a lap of luxury he hadn’t experienced in years, he honestly wouldn’t be able to say. Maybe it was because his father had always talked of moving east when he was still alive. Maybe it was because his surviving relatives had all scorned his father’s dreams. Maybe it was because his mother was said to have hailed from here.

Either way, once he had gotten on in years, enough to be on his own, Keith had packed up his things and set east, wandering to and fro until finally settling down in a comfortable, albeit small, home nestled snugly in the West Egg of the Long Island harbor. He’d never met his neighbors before and had a sneaking feeling one of the houses lay vacant.

The other, well, he only knew the place as McLaurent’s mansion. The elusive McLaurent was a name Keith had heard rather early on after coming east and was often associated with the mysterious type of wealth, the one where no one quite knew where he had surfaced from and that no one really bothered to inquire about. Most were content with the squander of it for the lavish parties he threw weekly that lasted deep into the night.

Music from the live orchestra haunted Keith’s dreams as the lights and laughter was barely masked by the thin walls of his house. On nights he couldn’t sleep, he would sit out on his porch and watch the figures of the guests whirl and dance late into the wee hours of mornings. They seemed more like waifs, ghosts that would never truly settle any one place. Of course, Keith supposed, he wasn’t all that better than them.

He had never expected to find himself at one of those parties and yet here he was, standing near the cocktail bar with a feeling of indecency amid the rest of the partygoers. In his simple white button-down and black slacks, Keith was hopelessly out of place- at least it seemed that way to him. As he had expected, the parties mostly consisted of young men and women who appeared far more wealthy than he, the high quality of their lavish dresses and suits forgotten as the party approached full swing. He’d even watched as one short blonde girl had covered herself in a bottle of champagne that he was quite certain had a price more than three months of his rent in an attempt to drink it. The dress she had been wearing surely had to have been ruined by the action, but she seemed to not have a care in the world.

Keith was quite sure he was one of the few guests who had actually been invited. After all, people were not invited—they went there. A chauffeur in a robin’s-egg blue suit had arrived to deliver the invitation earlier that day, the expensive Rolls Royce looking far out of place next to Keith’s shack of a home. It seemed that McLaurent had been intending to call on Keith much sooner but had been a bit busy, so the pleasure was all his if Keith would attend his humble ‘little party’ that night.

Resolving that it would be good to show his face and meet his neighbor, Keith had ended up wearing his best and attending. However, all attempts to meet his host had failed utterly and completely and Keith was more than content to just drink his sorrows away and leave.

“I thought you might be here,” came a voice from behind him, and Keith turned to see a short brunette approaching him. She had curly hair the color of chestnuts and a thin waiflike figure, the pale green dress she wore obscuring most of the shape her body had. The green eyes behind her glasses were calculating in a way but also warm.

“Hello,” Keith replied awkwardly. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Oh nonsense,” Pidge replied with a wave of her hand. “You mentioned you lived next door to McLaurent; surely you anticipated this as well.”

Keith had met Pidge at a dinner party a bit more than a week ago that his cousin, Shiro, had invited him to. She had been visiting his cousin’s wife, Allura, as the two spent much of their girlhood together.

“I’m afraid we commonfolk aren’t quite as intelligent as the bar you set,” Keith answered hesitantly, remembering his father’s instructions to always treat a lady well.

Pidge scoffed at his words. “The next time you pander to me, I’ll have your head,” she said sharply, crossing one arm over her chest as she took a sip from the champagne flute she held. “Now then, why don’t you stay with me? I doubt you know anyone.”

“That would be correct,” Keith agreed, thankful to have someone he at least sort of knew.

For the next few hours, he followed the girl around, watching as she drifted from the scholars of Columbia to the social elite of the Upper East Side and even finding a place amid the dancers of Broadway and entertainers of the Theater District. It was quite impressive, really. What was even more impressive was how she spun Keith in such a way that he left a fairly good impression on all the people he met. That didn’t happen often, as he knew his personality was fairly abrasive at best.

As the night grew longer, Keith found himself in the company of Pidge, a man that Pidge seemed to know who laughed quite jovially and most things, and a man around Keith’s age with dark skin and attractive features.

“You know, you seem familiar,” he said suddenly, drawing Keith’s attention. “I don’t suppose you attended the Garrison when younger?”

“Why, yes, I did,” Keith replied in surprise. He certainly had never seen the man before in his life but he supposed there was no harm in telling the truth. The man was already launching into a story about an encounter with one of the professors there and Keith hadn’t the heart to disrupt him and ask who he was.

Somehow he found himself drawn into reminiscing with the dark skinned man for quite some time. When the man laughed, wrinkles stretched across the otherwise blemish-free skin that seemed to hold a sort of age that Keith hadn’t yet experienced. Just as he was about to ask the man’s name, Pidge turned to him with a grin.

“Having a gay time?” she inquired leisurely. “Not quite so lost?”

“Indeed!” Keith agreed contentedly before turning back to his new companion. “I’m afraid I’m not used to parties such as these. I haven’t even met the host. I live over there-” he gestured to the hedge far in the distance. “-and received an invitation from McLaurent for the party tonight.”

The man looked at him in surprise for a few seconds before saying suddenly “ _I’m_ McLaurent. My apologies, I thought you knew!”

“Oh! Oh, no, not at all! It’s me who should apologize!” Keith said hurriedly, feeling a bit embarrassed and sort of out of the loop. It didn’t help that Pidge and her male friend were snickering a bit under their breath.

“No need,” McLaurent said with a wave of his hand. “But- if you truly feel bad, why don’t you accompany further tonight. There is a sight you simply _must_ see.”

“Ah, I-I would be honored,” Keith stammered in surprise. The smile on McLaurent’s face was wide and genuine and somehow gave Keith the feeling that not much about the man was. A hand was extended to Keith and, after a hesitant second, he took it. As McLaurent led him away from the small group, he saw Pidge turn and whisper something to her friend that sent them both into peels of laughter. Hopefully it wasn’t at his expense.

McLaurent led Keith into the house, which he had been hesitant to explore too much as it wasn’t his own. The deeper they got within it, the thinner spread the guests were until the only person he could hear was McLaurent’s faint breath and the click of the heels of his leather shoes against the hardwood floors. Something about the man’s figure struck Keith as beautiful and he quickly pushed that thought from his mind. Untoward thoughts like that certainly would not be welcome in such pleasant company.

“Where are we going?” he couldn’t help but ask, the mystery of McLaurent’s eventual destination too much for him to remain quiet on.

“I suppose you must wait and see,” McLaurent replied with a twinkle in his voice and a hint of something more. Keith had no retort to that and remained silent as he was pulled along. He wasn’t quite sure when it was that the hand clasped around his changed from a strange intruder to an old friend.

Right when he was considering asking again and wondering if they were halfway to China yet, a door was pushed open to reveal that the pair were once again outside.

It seemed to be a garden, an atrium of sorts, with high stone walls surrounding it covered in creeping ivy and other vines with brightly colored flowers. A small gazebo was in the center with a loose stone walkway leading to it, the white marble structure seeming to glow in the moonlight. As the two neared it, Keith saw that the garden wasn’t an atrium at all, but had a low stone fence on the opposite side that offered a view of the sea beyond from the gazebo.

The vegetation seemed to thrive in the sea breeze, seemingly almost overgrown with decadent flowers and lush bushes and even small trees near the edges that reminded Keith of the persimmon tree a neighbor grew back when he lived in the west with his parents. If he looked closely, he could see that each flower was cared for with the utmost delicacy and gentleness that only a sort of nobility could possess.

On the gazebo, Keith could see the ocean stretched out past the beach, the dark blue water reflecting the stars in a way that only such a magnificent body of water could. At the opposite shore, a faint green light hypnotized the eyes to draw them back wherever they might stray. It was a bit strange, for such a light to be so visible, but Keith realized after a moment that it was coming from the East Egg.

“This is all quite lovely,” he murmured after a moment, sensing McLaurent’s eyes on him. He turned to see that the man was staring at him with a sort of admiration Keith hadn’t received in some time.

“Isn’t it though?” McLaurent replied, turning his attention to that green light across the sea. “That as well. My dear friend, that is a symbol.”

“A symbol?” Keith echoed, a bit confused. “Of what?”

“Oh, of many things,” McLaurent replied with a wave of his hand. “Nothing you’d find interesting, I’m afraid. But a symbol, nonetheless. A symbol, metaphor, emblem, token, whatever you fancy calling it. With a meaning only I understand.”

“I see,” Keith murmured. He was still confused but there was something poetic about the way McLaurent had described it and he didn’t feel like inquiring further. “Um, McLaurent-”

“Please,” the man said with a wave of his hand. “Call me Lance. McLaurent is far too formal.”

“...Lance then,” Keith said quietly. He was a bit surprised to hear the name spoken from the lips of the man himself; none of the guests he had attempted to speak with had even the faintest inkling of what McLaurent’s first name could possibly be. No one had seemed to have thought to ask. It struck Keith as terribly lonely.

He felt something brush against his cheek and turned back to see McLau- Lance with his hand outstretched, resting against Keith’s skin with the tips of his fingers in his hair. “Apologies,” he said after a moment, leaning in slightly. His eyes glinted a pale blue in the moonlight. “There was a petal.”

Keith’s gaze lowered slightly to the man’s parted lips, the way the stars seemed to dance off them in a sort of mesmerization. It was only when Lance leaned in further that Keith seemed to realize what was happening, and even then, he simply stood there.

The kiss itself was just as lonely as the man, gentle and faint and pure in a way that didn’t really suit someone so vastly wealthy as Lance was. The solitary within those few seconds was profound and when he pulled away to stare at the green light, Keith’s eyes remained on his figure. So fragile that the gentle sea breeze may do away with him right then and there.

“You simply _must_ come out with tomorrow morn,” Lance said suddenly, turning back to face Keith. It was a bit out of the blue but welcome nonetheless. “Remember that hydroplane I told you about? I believe it’s about time I test it out. Oh, it won’t be too much of course. Just near the shore along the Sound.”

“What time?” Keith found himself saying. Something about Lance made him want to say yes- even if he wasn’t too fond of the ocean.

He felt like if he was with Lance, he could learn to be.


	10. Day 10: YouTube

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an unfortunate game of rock-paper-scissors, Lance and Keith go hunting for mothman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to post again, I was fighting a severe case of writer's block lol. This prompt was a struggle, so that's why it's not that long. Sorry guys,

“Remind me again why we’re out here?” Lance grumbled, hugging his shoulders tighter as the chilly March wind whipped around him. Funny thing about standing in the middle of abso-fucking-lutely nowhere: everything seemed a bajillion times colder.

“Because you lost at rock paper scissors,” was his boyfriend’s prompt response, who was wandering around the woods in little more than his typical red bomber jacket and a black turtleneck (which Lance would much prefer seeing in bed than out here, thankyouverymuch), with not a care in the world. Except, of course, the reason they were outside in the first place.

“Yeah, I still think rock paper scissors isn’t a very valid way of deciding something as important as this.”

“You’re the one who proposed it, idiot,” Keith answered blandly, turning back to look at Lance with an eyebrow raised.

Lance shrugged and turned away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” his feigned ignorance causing quite the impressive eye roll from the mullet before he went back to what he was doing- which, Lance might add, was still ridiculous, no matter how convinced Keith was.

“Look, babe, as much as you’ve told me about this guy, I just have the tiniest, y’know, just the _slightest_ reservation about-”

“Lance, I swear to God, if you say he isn’t real one more time, no sex for a solid week. And that’s if I’m feeling nice.”

“-about _not_ finding him! There’s just no way we won’t find at least a little evidence, right, hun?” The burnette had pressed up against his boyfriend, nuzzling his cheek against Keith’s as he added, “I totally believe and support you in everything you do, you know me.”

“Oh, you bet I do,” Keith answered, twisting to press a quick kiss to Lance’s cheek before he switched on his flashlight. “I think it’s finally dark enough,” he explained, gesturing to the sky that was now a dark gray in color, the last bit of light fading quickly from the vast expanse above them.

“Because everyone knows that moths are nocturnal,” Lance nodded, crossing his arms to appear like he was agreeing. Really, he was just cold- not that he could say that, Keith had kind of warned him a bajillion times about dressing warmly, but he, in his blissful ignorance, had insisted that he would be perfectly fine _and_ still look good. A classic Lance mistake, but hey, at least he looked fucking killer. These skinny jeans made his ass look _great_.

“Well yeah, that’s when they can best catch their prey off guard,” Keith said matter-of-factly.

“Wait, they’re carnivorous?!” Lance squeaked, hoping his pitch didn’t raise too much. Hunting for a very-likely-to-be-fake cryptid was one thing, but one that might eat _him?_ A very different story.

“Aw, are you scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you, babe.”

As much as Lance wanted to deny and reject Keith’s statement, he much preferred to accept it. It wasn’t every day that his boyfriend called him ‘babe’ after all.

“Why can’t you say that more often?” Lance whined as he trailed after Keith. He had his own flashlight but he felt more comfortable staying close to the one who went out into the wilderness to hunt for fake monster things on the regular. It just so happened their first crossover video just had to be a cryptid hunt.

“What, call you a scaredy cat? Why Lance, I had no idea you liked being bullied.”

“You call that bullying?” Lance scoffed, stepping forward to breathe against Keith’s neck, enjoying the shiver that he watched shoot down his boyfriend’s spine. “I am _more_ than willing to show you want bullying looked like.”

“Oh yeah?” Keith murmured, turning around to look at Lance. His eyes seemed to glow because of the way the light from the flashlight hit them and it was honestly mesmerizing. Keith leaned in, lips parted just slightly to kiss Lance square on the lips, looking directly into the camera as he did so.

Just as Lance started to close his eyes, he felt something sharp sting his lips and pulled away with a startled yelp, hand flying up to touch his bottom lip. It came away with a tiny dot of blood on his pointer finger, which Keith grabbed out of nowhere and brought to his lips, licking it off with a wink.

Lance felt his cheeks heat up as Keith murmured “How’s _that_ for bullying?” He must’ve looked ridiculous because Keith started to laugh and Lance scowled- although he couldn’t hide the smile spreading wide across his face.

“Oh you are _totally_ getting it later tonight!”


	11. Day 11: Historical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working in a tavern in the 1860s, Keith can only get so much. Luckily, Lance is one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always always always wanted to write a Civil War klance fic and I have an idea for a longer multi-chapter one but this is just me indulging myself briefly. I tried to be historically accurate, but y'know, I can only get it so right.

The thing about living in a small town in the South of Pennsylvania was that nothing ever happened and then all of a sudden, so many things were happening. The place that had been Keith’s home for the past twenty years or so suddenly became a bustling place of business as the residents struggled to put up all the Union soldiers who travelled through towards the border states to fight in the war.

Ah yes, the war. Keith hadn’t really encountered slavery before; he was originally from Georgia, but he had emigrated with his parents when he was three, so he didn’t remember any of that. None of the people in the town he lived in were wealthy enough to have any slaves, and most of them had immediately gotten on board with the president’s Emancipation Proclamation, Keith included.

It still seemed unreal, that there was a civil war going on just a few hundred miles from where he lived, and yet he never heard or saw a glimpse of it. Nothing ever happened in Westward, Pennsylvania, and he was used to that.

And then it became a stop along the route for all the Union soldiers headed for West Virginia and his job as a barkeeper at the one tavern in town was suddenly strained more than he’d ever been used to in his life.

Although getting to see all the men passing through was a definite plus.

Keith had, for the past six years or so, ever since he’d realized that he simply wasn’t attracted to females, never been in a relationship, and never talked about wanting one. All jeers and jests at his expense were simply waved off with the excuse of losing his mother then his father as trauma. After all, even if there was a place for blacks in Westward, there was no place for a sodomite. The best he could do was keep it hidden, lest he be forced to fear for his life otherwise.

Still, his job as a bartender made it possible for him to quite easily flirt with some of the soldiers and be able to write it off as being overly friendly and a bit effeminate. His appearance certainly helped with that.

There were a few times that some of them seemed to truly fall for it, with their inhibitions freeing up the more drunk they got. Of course, when morning came, they wanted nothing to do with Keith afterwards, but he didn’t care all that much. He’d take what he could get, since it certainly wasn’t a lot.

Some of them were actually fairly kind to him afterwards, apologizing for any misconduct they may have had and asking him if he, himself, was okay. Obviously he was; before the war, the only people he could get with were vagrants or travellers, and they were always less than gentle, happy enough to just have a hole for the first time in awhile. Keith was careful not to relish in the attention, knowing he’d never see any of those men again. If they were able to go their separate ways amicably, that was enough for him.

Or at least, it was.

And then he met Lance.

Lance was a member of the seventh platoon, led by commanding officer Takashi Shirogane. Keith had immediately felt an affinity to the man, as he had rarely seen another American of Asian descent this far East. The platoon was staying for a week while they awaited orders and Lance had come to the tavern every night for the past five days. The strange thing was that, for the first time, Keith was pretty sure he was being hit on, not the other way around. But that also just seemed to be Lance.

“Hey sweetie, come here often?” he heard the man say one night to a cute girl sitting a few seats down from him. She looked at him for a few seconds before giggling and linking arms with another man who had appeared out of nowhere.

Keith watched as Lance’s eyes widened and he quickly waved the couple off, trying to avoid the stink eye the girl’s partner was giving him. Once they’d left the tavern, it was just Lance at the bar now, and Keith poured him a glass of brandy and passed it over.

“She’s been in here every other night meeting her fiancee here. If you ever actually bothered to listen to other people, you’d know that,” he explained when Lance looked up at him in confusion.

“Aw, are you consolong me?” Lance cooed, graciously accepting the glass as he took a long swig. Keith tried to ignore how sexy the way Lance’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow was. Once he’d set the glass down, the brunette leaned forward and purred, “How about you, samurai, come here often?”

“First off, I don’t even know what that is,” Keith replied with a chuckle. “Second, I work here, so… why don’t you answer that yourself?”

“You don’t know what a samurai is?”

“Seeing as I’m not some well-learned soldier from the North, that would be a no,” Keith said as he picked up the empty glasses left by where the girl had been sitting. She’d barely touched the mint julep he’d made for her, but she paid, so it didn’t matter he guessed. Still, it meant more mess for him to clean up.

“Trust me, after talking to me for a bit longer, you will quickly realize that I am many things- incredibly handsome, sweet, passionate, romantic- but one thing I certainly am not is learned.”

“I don’t need to talk to you any longer to know that,” Keith teased with a sly grin.

“Well that better not be true; who am I supposed to talk to if you don’t want to?” Lowering his voice, Lance winked as he added, “You’re the prettiest one here, after all.”

Keith scoffed and turned away, using polishing the empty glass mug as an excuse to hide his burning cheeks. He heard snickering coming from behind him and felt a pang of fear shoot through him. This guy was just playing around, wasn’t he, just like all the other guys, and-

“You know your ears are red, right?”

Oh.

 _Oh._ So he’d just been jumping to conclusions. Then why did he still feel uneasy?

“Too bad for you, red’s my color,” Keith replied, setting the glass down as he finally turned back to Lance with a small smile on his face. The man seemed to notice something was up but before he could comment on it, Keith quickly grabbed his half-empty glass. “Need a refill already, huh? Soldiers really can hold their liquor.”

“Not all of us,” Lance said instantly, taking the bait. “You should meet my friend Hunk; one drink and he’s out like a light! It would be funny if he wasn’t such a big dude. You try carrying the a two hundred-something guy back to the tent and suddenly it ain’t so hilarious anymore.”

“I’ve handled worse,” Keith shrugged. “Taverns aren’t really the safest places, if you get my drift.”

“You? In a bar fight?” Lance eyed the lithe man up and down before scoffing, “Puh-lease, there’s no way you’d win.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna go, big boy?”

“Sure, long as it’s back to your place. I’d say mine, but it ain’t really a solitary place. Unless you _like_ an audience.”

“You-!” Keith clamped his jaw set and squeezed the glass so hard it almost cracked as he looked around frantically, making sure no one heard that. The only other people in the bar this late at night was the town drunk, who was slobbering all over himself, and a group of men playing cards at one of the tables in the back. He was safe.

“You need to be more subtle! One slip and my life is hell!” Keith chided.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn't think anyone was paying attention to us,” Lance said with a wave of his hand. He looked like he genuinely felt bad and that quelled Keith’s anger somewhat. “I guess that type of thing isn’t really accepted by the people here, huh?”

“And it is up North?” Keith retorted with a raised eyebrow. When Lance didn’t respond, he sighed. “That’s what I thought. Maybe in a hundred years or so.”

“My friend’s are just really accepting, so I kinda forget about it.” The dark-skinned man seemed a little more subdued, like he’d sobered up a bit. “I’m sorry. One more drink and I’ll head out, okay? It was just a little teasing, that’s all.”

“...was it really?” Keith murmured quietly as he turned back to get a cocktail glass. “What do you want?” he said, this time loud enough for Lance to hear him. He felt all mixed up and confused, not knowing what things Lance had said during the night to believe or not. Maybe he shouldn’t believe _any_ of it. That would be easier, right? It wasn’t like he’d ever even see Lance again once he left.

That thought wasn’t one he wanted at the moment, and he focused his attention on the man sitting across from him, who seemed to be thinking about something.

“...Can I order something special?” Lance asked. Keith was a little surprised but nodded nonetheless.

“If I can make it, then sure. And consider it on the house. My treat for the hard-working soldier;” He offered a smile at the brunette.

“Thanks. Um, do you have cognac?”

“Of _course_ I have cognac, this may be just a tavern, but I try to at least have _some_ class,” Keith replied as he grabbed the bottle of coppery liquid. “How much?”

“Oh, it’ll all be about the same amount, so… you could wait until I’m done?”

“Sure. What else then?”

“Uh, let’s see, I think it was rum-” Keith nodded and reached for the orange bottle of Bacardi on the top shelf. “-and what was it? Triple something.”

Keith froze, heart nearly skipping a beat. “...do you mean triple sec?” he asked quietly, turning to look back at Lance, moving the familiar clear bottle to the counter without even looking at it.

“Yeah, that’s the one!” Lance exclaimed, looking up at Keith. His expression seemed to soften as he added, “Have you heard of that cocktail before? It’s a pretty popular one up in NYC.”

“Who do you think I am?” Keith replied, clearing his throat as he turned back to the cocktail glass, pouring the liquids into the shaker with practiced ease. As he shook it, he did everything he could to not focus on the way he could feel Lance watching him with a kind of intensity he’d never seen anyone direct his way before.

When it was finally finished, and he passed the glass over to Lance, the man caught his hand before he could pull away. “If you know it, then you know what I’m asking.”

His words were blunt, not minced at all, but they didn’t really need to be. He was making his intentions clear and he wasn’t even that intoxicated and his eyes weren’t glazed over and he wasn’t thinking of someone else and he was _asking_.

Besides, Keith was pretty sure he’d won his heart from the second he’d walked into the tavern days ago.

“...Is that gonna be on the house too?” he whispered as he leaned down to wink at Lance. “Because you’d better show me a good time then.”

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna show you the best time you’ve ever had.”

The bar for that wasn’t very high, but Keith figured he wouldn’t point that out.

Not yet anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cocktail is the Between the Sheets, which is credited with being invented in the 1930s but there's theories that it might've existed before that, and that was good enough for me.


	12. Day 12: Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rethinking of the "we are a good team" scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: this is a role reversal chapter!

A heavy thudding sound made Lance’s consciousness flicker back for a few seconds, followed immediately by pained grunting and the sounds of things colliding with each other. He tried to open his eyes but the dull throb in the back of his head and the intense burning over far too much of his body stopped him.

Where was he? What was going on?

The last thing he remembered was seeing Rover- but it wasn’t Rover, or maybe it was and was just reprogrammed? Re-reprogrammed? And then there was an explosion and he’d gone for Coran and- right. He’d been knocked off his feet and had promptly blacked out. Clearly, luck had been on his side with the passing out thing, judging by how much pain he was in when he wasn’t even fully conscious.

Just as he’d made up his mind to open his eyes, at least partially, someone grabbed his shoulder roughly and he barely held back a shriek. A pained moan echoed through the air and it took him a second to realize maybe he hadn’t held it back as well as he’d thought.

“Let him go!” a strange voice said, likely belonging to the same person who’d grab him. Already, Lance’s consciousness was fading out again as he heard, “Or your friend won’t make it.”

Flinching at the sound of a grunt followed instantly by a thud next to him, his eyes flickered just enough to catch a glimpse of a shock of white hair. Shiro? It had to be. But he couldn’t do much other than give in to the blissful pull of darkness, eager to leave the pain behind despite how much he was urging himself to move, do _something_.

What kind of Class-A fighter pilot was he, if he couldn’t even handle an explosion? He knew the answer to that, though. A shitty one. One that the Garrison has no problems with kicking out.

* * *

 

The second time he woke up, it was thankfully a little more permanent, although he could still barely move. The searing pain had sort of faded now, although he was pretty sure that throbbing meant his burns were at least second-degree. Not good. But his head felt a little better! That was good! He still couldn’t move though. Not good. Now that inventory had been taken, time to see what had woken him up. Scrunching up his face, he found that he could open his eyes and he looked around to see what was going on.

He could see Pidge to his left, a hand on Shiro’s shoulder saying something that he was fairly certain should sound like words. Maybe his head was still more fucked up than he thought. Then he was glad that he’d thought that before speaking because suddenly this giant purple rat-like thing - a Galra, his pain-addled brain supplied him - yanked Pidge from where he’d been kneeling and jerked him back into the air all too violently.

“...think… hologram… work?!” The Galra’s voice sounded distant and distorted but some of the words were at least becoming clearer.

Then a door on the far end of the room opened and - what do you know? - Keith and Allura raced through. Allura, he was happy to see. Keith? Not so much.

“Stand back!” The Galra yelled, whipping around to face them as he used Pidge as a threat and Lance knew this was his chance.

Shiro was tied up still, looking desperate to help and enraged that he couldn’t.

Pidge was, pretty obviously, a bit held up at the moment- quite literally.

Keith and Allura couldn’t risk hurting Pidge.

This was his chance.

“Time to be the hero,” he muttered under his breath, gripping his bayard tighter as it transformed beneath his fingers into the gun he’d practiced so much with. Hoisting it up and ignoring the firebolt of pain that shot through his muscles and shoulder at the movement, he took aim and fired.

It hit the Galra square in the back, sending him stumbling forward as he dropped Pidge with a cry of shock and pain, but Lance was too busy gritting his teeth at the shock of the wall behind him hitting his back from the propulsion of the gun.

Darkness creeping in on the edges of his vision once again, his gun disappeared as he fell back with a tightly-held-back grunt. Noises were raging on around him, and he was pretty sure that the others were fighting Rat Man now, deciding that was a pretty good name for the guy.

He finally forced himself fully awake again, edging out the black spots dancing around his eyes, when he heard more pained grunting ( _wow_ , there was a lot of grunting going on today). _Keith’s_ grunting, to be specific, and Lance felt a rush of emotions at that observation that he didn’t really feel up to working through at the moment.

All he could do was sit there and watch as Keith pretty much single handedly fought the guy. Rationally, he knew that it wasn’t just Keith - Shiro distracted Rat Man, Pidge knocked him off balance with his whip, electrocuted him, Allura did whatever she did with the castle - but Lance wasn’t a rational guy. He liked to shoot first, ask questions later.

And that was why he burned with rage seeing Keith take down the enemy. Why did it have to be Keith who got to fight the bad guy? Why was _he_ always the hero? Lance was the fighter pilot! Keith had just been a lousy cargo pilot that somehow managed to get Shiro’s attention! But that was a whole ‘nother thing and he didn’t want to hash out his inferiority complex in the middle of a battlefield- that was _his_ problem, no one else’s. No one had to know what went on in Lance’s head; no one _deserved_ to know.

Lance heard Allura’s voice call something out to the others, and just like that, Rat Man was sent flying backwards by a double-footed kick executed perfectly (because of _course_ it was perfect) and as Keith hit the ground after that kick, Rat Man was trapped. For good, Lance hoped.

Somehow, even though cargo pilots didn’t receive combat training, he was able to fight like nobody’s business- Shiro’s efforts, Lance supposed. And even though he was just supposed to lug random shit from place to place, he could fly with the best of them. And even though his test grades were low enough to put him in the cargo pilot class, he still could think of plans and execute them.

And even though he was just a stupid, fucking _cargo pilot_ , he was perfect.

Shiro loved the guy enough to nearly adopt him, from what Lance had heard, while he barely acknowledged Lance, didn’t even know who he was before this despite him having taught a few of Lance’s fighter pilot classes before he went missing. Pidge and Hunk were his closest friends, even though Lance had no idea what about his personality they liked so much; he was loudmouthed, irritating, argumentative, just plain annoying.

What about _Lance?_ He had put everything he had into his training, had isolated himself in an effort to not waste time, had learned how to keep his mouth shut, had taught himself battle strategies and trained alone every day. Yet somehow, he wasn’t the one people gravitated around- Keith was.

And it was a lie that he didn’t get it.; he _did_. Keith was nice. Keith was friendly. Keith was strong, and smart, and modest, and- and beautiful. And honestly? Lance would pick Keith over himself too.

So as much as he hated Keith, he had to admit that Keith had his respect, his admiration, and maybe even more than that.

“Lance!” Speak of the devil. Lance looked up to see Keith hovering over him with an expression of concern and fear. “Are you okay?” he asked, tone laced tightly, and Lance realized he was scared that Lance _wasn’t_ okay, violet-grey eyes looked him up and down to examine the extent of his injuries. Why did he have to have such pretty eyes?

“We did it,” Lance finally replied, a small smile crossing his face as he slowly reached up to take Keith’s hand, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. “We are a good team.”

Hand warm in Keith’s, the boy looked surprised for a moment but then he smiled. Not one of those shit-eating grins he liked to wear around the others, nor the smirk or sneer he normally used with Lance. A smile that was genuine and sweet, like he agreed. A smile that seemed almost shy in nature.

Surely Lance was imagining it when he thought he felt Keith’s pulse pick up beneath his grip.


End file.
